


Lucky

by loochskywalker



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Shallow Connor McDavid vs Diva Jack Eichel, Infidelity, M/M, Panic Attacks, Resentment, Sharing a Bed, Therapy, cheesy hockey metaphors, poor communication skills, with special guest Dad Friend Taylor Hall and Shit Disturber Leon Draisaitl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-19 16:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loochskywalker/pseuds/loochskywalker
Summary: “We don’t like each other.”Chiarelli nods. “Why?” He doesn’t seem surprisedJack shakes his head. “We just don’t get along, we just… don’t fit together.”“Well excuse my language but I think we all know that’s bullshit.”“Unless,” Connor says, “I got some random kid named Jack Eichel and he got some random kid named Connor McDavid and we’re not each other’s soulmates, everyone just overreacted.”OrJack and Connor are soulmates and they're not happy about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> God! this took me literally months and months of writing and editing. Thanks to the hand full of people i needed to help me fully edit this, it wasn't easy because I suck at things like spelling, grammar and tenses. 
> 
> I fucked with some things because the premise gets kind of complicated. Like i split up parts of the combine and kind of threw them all into draft weekend. Also I initially had Hanifin going to the Coyotes but then i immediately forgot about it and wrote him on the canes for the rest of the fic so i messed with the draft order too. Also there are like five things i wanted to address and wasn't able to because i couldn't find the place for it to fit. But maybe there will be extra, i guess, idk. 
> 
> Anyway, please be warned that the characters experience emotionally uncomfortable situations, that it can be pretty angsty but i like to think it's funny and lighthearted in some places too. The narrator also has a panic disorder that comes up multiple times. 
> 
> This was also written so that both characters were seen as flawed and obnoxious but also, genuine and legitimate. If you hate Connor one minute you may start hating Jack the next. There are no rules here. But I didn't try to make one look worse than the other, I just wanted to really get to the root of the problem which was that, you gotta work for things that are important.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s supposed to go like this: you get your soulmate, you get drafted, you get paid millions, and your life fucking rocks. That’s how it’s gone for almost every top rated NHL prospect, and it’s how Jack expected it to go for him too. Things come easy to him -- life does in general. Not everyone is as lucky as him, and he knows that. He was raised in a town where you never take that kind of thing for granted. Hell, he is the second freshman ever to win the Hobey Baker. The only other person to do that was Paul Kariya. And Jack’s going to get drafted second overall. He knows better than to take all of that for granted.

That’s why he doesn’t understand how he ended up in this position, with the worst fucking luck when it probably matters most. 

Because Jack approached the table thinking he was going to end up with some normal ass person that he could build a stable and good life with as his soulmate. But instead he grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded it.

The name Connor McDavid was right there, staring back at him.

“Jack, you can go back to your seat,” It’s the wife of some important guy in town, Jack doesn’t know who she is, but he does as he’s told anyway.

He’s sitting in an auditorium with all these kids he grew up with and he feels so frozen in place, so shocked, that even blinking isn’t working. Because how did he go from the best hockey player in the NCAA to having his soulmate be the second fucking coming of hockey Christ or whatever? 

He hates North Chelmsford right then. He wishes they just sent letters home like every other town that’s worth anything. Jack could deal with this if he could immediately switch on Netflix and pretend it never happened. Instead, because Chelmsford believes in like the integrity of randomness, they have to do this stupid shitty thing where they walk up to a bowl with a bunch of pieces of paper and pull one at random.

But it’s never really random because they’re your soulmate. Jack could have chosen any piece of paper in that bowl and they would have all said Connor McDavid. Because Fate is like that -- you think you get a choice, but no, not really. It was always going to be Connor. Jack does not deserve this.

 

*********

 

“Listen,” It’s Hanny on the other end of the phone. “It could be worse okay? Like, think about the positives here…”

“There are no positives.”

“LIKE,” Hanny barreled forward. “Like the fact that he’ll understand the rigorous schedule, and the lifestyle. He’ll understand the competition, and he’ll understand how you’re feeling.” Hanny pauses. “Jack just… don’t freak out.”

“Just don’t freak out? That’s rich advice Hanny, what was the name of your soulmate by the way?” Jack is being snappy but he doesn’t know who else to talk to about this. Hanny is basically his parental guardian. 

“Molly  Bednarczyk, ” Hanny mumbles. “But...what if she’s like, pissed that I’m a hockey player.”

“She’s not going to be pissed you’re a hockey player,” Jack is sitting in his dorm, glaring at the wall and grinding his teeth. Hanny is doing his best, staying calm and trying to be supportive. But Jack… is pissed.

“Have you got his number yet?” Hanny asks.

“I got it before this whole thing, back at the Stanley Cup finals,” Jack says, “I was going to say something before the draft, but now…”

“You know you’re going to have to talk to him someday, right?”

“Hey, what if it isn’t him though? What if it’s some other Connor McDavid?” Jack offers. “That’d be cool, right? I could do just a regular Connor from like… Burlington, Vermont.”

Hanny laughed on the other end of the phone. “Jack,” he says. “You’re just going to make this harder for yourself.”

“That’s like, the thing I’m second best at.”

“What’s the first? Being a drama queen?”

“Screw you Hanny, it’s hockey. Drama queen is under the same category as making things harder for myself.”

“Well, third best is definitely making things harder for me.”

“You’re my only ally in there Hanny. We need to take down the Canadians.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Whatever.”

Jack tries not to toss his phone to the other side of the room when he crashes back down into bed but it’s a near thing. He presses the home button to check if he has any notifications. There’s a text from Sonny, a twitter alert, and a reminder he has a final tomorrow. There’s nothing from Connor. 

 

***********

The draft is approaching fast and Connor still hasn’t texted him. Jack’s moved back home with his parents, and is packing up his stuff when his phone goes off. He grabs it quick and checks it.

It’s just Hanny.

“Zach doesn’t know what to pack for the draft.” 

Another buzz.

“I can’t believe this kid is getting drafted in the first round.”

Jack ignores him. And he can’t imagine Zach is getting drafted first round either, because he witnessed Zach almost start crying over a boiling pot of water because it had started to hiss on the stove. It took about fifteen minutes of Jack trying to explain to him that if there was water on the bottom of the pot, which there probably was, it was going to make that sound.

But he ignores Hanny, because Connor’s supposed to be the one texting him. They’re going to be meeting as soulmates for the first time pretty soon, so what? Connor is just going to make it as awkward as possible?

“You’re not doing anything either,” Hanny says later that night when Jack cracks and has to call him. No one lets Jack complain like Hanny does.

“I’m the one who’s life is torn up by this. Have you read the rules on this shit? I’m probably not even going to be officially drafted!”

“What?”

It was true. Jack had immediately told his agent, who did not seem happy about it at all. That at least was finally a reaction he was hoping to get -- his mom was ecstatic, which did not help. 

Either way when Jack asked what was up, his agent emailed him a link on how they deal with this kind of thing in the NHL, and it was right there, not even in fine print. 

If two players drafted in the same year are soulmates, they both go to the team of the player drafted highest. If your soulmate is already in the NHL you go to their team if they were drafted higher than you, or they go to yours if you were drafted higher. However, if one is not drafted at all, no team will take you, and you just go to hang out with your soulmate while they became a hockey stud.

Jack wasn’t sure which situation was worse, but his money was on his.

He wasn’t going to get drafted. 

“Maybe,” Hanny says, weak, after Jack explains all of this to him. “It’s a different Connor McDavid?”

Jack laughs humorlessly.

“Or maybe...Edmonton will choose you first?” 

Jack laughs again.

“Does Buffalo know you’re going wherever Connor goes? Because they were already pissed they weren’t going to get him, but now that you’re off the table too, who are they gonna pick up? Stromer? Marner? Me? Damn dude, I was betting on going somewhere at least somewhat nice and not fucking Buffalo.”

“It’ll be Strome”, Jack says. “Or you.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“No problem.”

 

**********

 

The hockey world goes crazy when it comes out that Connor and Jack are soulmates. Most people get to keep their soulmate status on the down low, but when your soulmate is the best hockey player since Wayne fucking Gretzky, you don’t get to keep anything to yourself. They’re talking about it all over panels. Fucking Buffalo even suggested they change the rules, because it made sense when one player was drafted in the 3rd round and the other in the 5th, but having the top two rated prospects in the world go to one team in one draft was just unfair, or something. 

Jack is watching some talking heads debate it a few hours before he has to go to the airport. It’s weird, but he supposes this is his life now, being talked about like he’s an asset to a business rather than a human fucking being who is about to have his life torn up because the soulmate gods, or whoever they are, decided to majorly mess with him. 

At least Connor is going to get drafted.

 

**********

 

Jack is not 100% excited that the draft is taking place in Florida. It’s hot, and humid, and there are bugs and other creepy animals everywhere. It makes him all sweaty and flushed, and his skin gets bright red because he may be one of the whitest people ever. 

“It’s cool, we’re from Massachusetts. It’s expected,” Hanny says as he watches Jack fan himself on the way from the airport to the hotel.

Jack glares at him because Hanny is fine, looks refreshed and cool and  _ tan _ . He doesn’t understand shit. Because life goes good for Hanny. Yeah, it hasn’t been  _ great, _ not like Jack’s life up until the McDavid thing, but it’s been good and it’s continued to be good. 

“Zach is already there,” Hanny says after a few minutes, looking down at his phone.

“Is McDavid there?” Jack asks. There’s something safe about being in a room while other people walk into it, versus walking into a room already filled with people. Jack doesn’t have a lot of hope though. The Canadians always try to show them up.

“Let me ask,” Hanny says, texting away on his phone as Jack looks out the window. They’re in some transport van, just them and their luggage. They’re supposed to, like, meet up with the other prospects in their hotel while their families go to a different hotel. In most scenarios, if Jack was nervous, his parents and sister would make him feel better, but the utter glee his mom would have when she saw McDavid would be too much to bear. He prefers this. It still sucks. But he prefers it. 

“He says McDavid’s there, with Strome and Marner,” Hanny says. “He’s got a bigger posse than you, step it up, Eichs.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “With Zach, it’s equal.”

“Don’t play yourself. Zach is  _ my _ friend,” Hanny says. “You just got me.”

Jack glares at him before leaning over and punching him in the shoulder, not trying to be gentle about it. “Shut up.”

Hanny rubs at his shoulder, but he’s grinning at Jack, because Hanny is officially the worst.

Hanny being the worst doesn’t stop Jack from clinging to his arm when they enter the hotel. He’s nervous, and his family isn’t there, and Hanny’s like the closest thing he has to family, or whatever. They’ve been linked as much as McDavid and him have been linked, as far as hockey destinies go. Hanny’s his guy, his bro, his dude, and he’s not going to get away from Jack in his time of crisis. Not today. 

The lobby is partly full of teenage guys mingling, accompanied by the low rumble of conversation. There are execs here, too, Jack can pick most of them out of the crowd. A few agents here and there, and the PR lady who’s running this whole thing. 

Hanny, because he’s Hanny, lets Jack cling, and leads Jack over to where Zach was standing with another defensemen they played at World Juniors with. Brandon Carlo towers over all of them but has a genuinely friendly smile when he greets them. Jack remembers liking Carlo a lot. 

But of course, because things can’t just go his way for more than 2 minutes, Hanny makes an excited noise and tugs at Jack’s suit coat. 

“What?” Jack hisses before looking up where Hanny is. 

And he sees him, Connor, right there. He’s talking to two players Jack knows are Marner and Strome, and two other guys that Jack probably knows the names of but can’t place. Connor is coolly leaning against the wall like he doesn’t care at all about being there. Probably doesn’t, the asshole -- he’s got his whole future in his own hand, and Jack’s too. And he doesn’t care about anything. 

He tries to look away quickly, though, and shrug Hanny off. Marner, the small squirmy one, catches him out of the corner of his eye as he’s scanning the crowd, and starts making excited motions too. 

Jack can’t look away at that point, because now Connor is looking, and this is like, a thing.

Connor nods once. Jack nods back. Strome says something. Connor starts laughing and that’s that.

Jack blinks and looks away back at his own group.

“That’s weird as fuck,” Zach laughs.

“The whole thing is,” Hanny agrees.

“You guys don’t even know.” And Jack kind of hates that they don’t.

 

***********

 

The next day a bunch of them are corralled for interviews, but Jack’s agent stops him before he goes to follow Hanny.

Peter shakes his head. “They don’t need to speak with you.”

“What?” Jack laughs, disbelieving. 

“You’re not on the list anymore,” he tells Jack.

“You mean no one wants to speak to me.” Jack’s face twists in disgust.

“Think of it this way,” Peter says. “You’re a lock, they all know that, and they all already know that they want you.”

“They want Connor,” Jack says, crossing his arms. “But whatever.”

 

*********

 

After day two, it gets worse. Yes, somehow worse than being excluded from team interviews. Day three, they want the top ten prospects to do stuff, all of them. Jack almost suggests he’s technically not part of this anymore. Like, yeah, they haven’t been drafted  _ yet, _ but no team even wanted to talk to him. That speaks pretty clearly to him. And if it gets him out of being around the group of them in the Florida heat around a bunch of wild animals, he’ll take the blow to his pride.

“You’re going,” Peter tells him. “This is PR. You don’t want anyone to think you’re being a bad sport about this. They already…” He stops.

Jack rolls his eyes. “I know what they’re saying about me. Whatever, I’ll go.”

Peter nods. “Good.”

When he gets down in the lobby, Hanny is talking, animated, with Marner, and Jack takes a second to feel betrayed before he full on stops and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He can ignore, Hanny, that’s fine, he’s good. 

It doesn’t last though, because there was a reason Hanny was talking with Marner, and it wasn’t because they’re BFFs or anything.

“Jack! What are you doing?”

Jack ignores him.

“Oh, seriously?” He can  _ feel _ the annoyance in Hanny’s steps as he walks up to Jack before grabbing his arm and tugging him back over to Marner, who’s grinning like this is the best day of his life.

“Hey!” Marner says, all happy and chipper.

“Hey,” Jack says.

“He’s a drama queen,” Hanny says, throwing his arm around Jack’s shoulders.

Jack smiles at him. “My life is basically over, Hanny, what do you expect from me?”

“Oh, cause the soulmate thing?” Mitch asks. “Yeah, I get that.”

Jack gives him a disbelieving look. “What do you mean? Isn’t everyone’s life supposed to be perfect after a soulmate or…?” Jack pauses, lowers his voice. “Did you not get one? Are you one of those people that…”

“No, I got one,” Mitch says. “But he’s some fucking fourth line enforcer from the Islanders,” he sighs. “I looked the guy up, he’s not much of a scorer, or… anything having to do with points. But he does do a good job of beating the shit out of people. Also, he’s like a fan favorite. So trust me, I know Davo is kind of a jerk, but at least not all of Long Island will hate you.”

“No, just the entire city of Buffalo.”

“Oh yeah, that’s happening too,” Mitch shakes his head. “Talking heads like to blow things out or proportion.”

“To be fair,” Hanny interjects, “so does the city of Buffalo.”

“You’re a good friend,” Mitch says, clapping Hanny on the back with a laugh. “This is the guy you chose to be your only ally?” he asks, turning to Jack.

Jack shrugs. “Carlo isn’t ranked high enough.”

Hanny laughs. “Aw Jack. Brandon doesn’t like you,” he says, putting his arm around Jack’s shoulder.

Mitch is still grinning at them. “You guys should hang out with us today. We don’t bite.”

“The groups small enough that we’ll probably have to.” Jack frowns.

“Don’t look so excited!” Mitch says. “We’re going to see like alligators and shit.” 

That makes Jack frown more.

“Don’t bring up wild animals to him,” Hanny laughs. “He’s already counting the minutes until we leave the Everglades.”

Jack is practically scowling so hard his face hurts, but the whole thing seems to just make Marner more giddy. This is going to be a long day.

 

***********

 

The moment they get there, all of them stepping off the bus, Jack wants to get right back on. It’s hot, it’s humid, and there are animals everywhere. Hanny grins at him and slaps him on the back, his hand guiding Jack forward. It looks friendly, but Hanny’s hand is forceful, even as Jack lets his feet drag on the dirt. 

“Smile,” Hanny says under his breath. “The cameras are watching, and everyone already thinks you’re ungrateful.”

Jack elbows Hanny in the side, but tries to make his face look more pleasant. Hanny isn’t wrong. 

Hanny abandons him somewhere along the way. Jack sits as far away from the group as possible, resting on a wooden chair and trying to focus on the electrical lines out past the Everglades. The rest of them are huddled around a woman dressed as a ranger, holding snakes and other gross stuff. For the first time since he came to Florida, he’s not avoiding Connor to avoid Connor- it’s completely to avoid the snake Connor is currently holding. 

There’s a cameraman in his face then, and he just shakes his head and puts his hands up.

“Why aren’t you over there with them?” The cameraman asks him.

“I don’t want anything to do with being over there, looking at that, touching it, I don’t know what those guys are doing. That’s a wild animal.” He hears the people around him laugh and Jack waves them off. They can’t make him enjoy himself, and if they want to laugh at him freaking out -- well, it’s not like that’s any newer to him.

He gets antsy and stands then, hoping to move further away if he can, or maybe run all the way back to the hotel. 

Distantly he hears, “Where’s Eichs at?” and he pokes his head up. Marner has the snake draped around his neck. His phone’s out, and he’s looking around dumbly. When he catches sight of Jack, he lights up. 

“You wanna?” He shouts, gesturing towards the snake.

“No, I don’t wanna hold anything.” Jack waves his hands around lamely, his heart rate picking up. 

“You don’t have to,”  another ranger says, and Jack nods

“Alright,” he says, his chest starting to constrict on him. “I don’t want to be here,” he can hear himself whine as he goes to step down from the porch where he was sitting.

When he gets off the porch, he sees the group all start to huddle around a dock. and Jack puts his hands up as another camera approaches. It’s not the fucking time. 

“You don’t understand my fear for this stuff,” he says to an NHL PR person who’s been tasked with babysitting them. “It’s like crazy.”

“You’ll be okay,” the man says back to him, and Jack wants to roll his eyes when he feels a presence behind him. 

Jack turns and almost fucking jumps when he sees it’s Connor, who just gives him a small smile. He assumes this is when they’re supposed to have their moment, within two feet of each other, and Jack feels like he’s going to pass out, because he can’t breathe. But there’s a camera behind Connor, and he can feel a camera behind himself too. He’s not doing this now.

“There are cameras everywhere,” Jack says, trying to put a hand up to block the one that’s behind Connor now.

Connor’s hand rests on his shoulder and gently guides him towards the dock, but not onto it. He leaves Jack then to go down to the dock with the rest of the guys. Jack feels his heart rate start to slow as he sees Connor catch back up with Strome, and then Hanny off to the side talking to Crouse. 

No one’s making him go down there; Jack can stand here and breathe for a few minutes.

He doesn’t even get a few seconds before he’s back on high alert. There’s a splash in the water, and the guys start making “oh” and “whoa” noises. Jack’s head snaps up, and he can feel his eyes go wide as he scans the water.

“What was that?” he shouts down to them.

“Get down here and see,” Hanny calls, grinning at him.

“All it takes is one hungry alligator,” Jack says back to him. That gets the rest of the guys to laugh. Jack feels his chest loosen a little more.

They get to ride in an airboat after that, and Hanny does convince Jack it’s important he go on this one. The PR person promises Jack the cameras will leave him alone on the boat, they just ask that he actually goes on it. He agrees, he’s not happy about it, but that’s the point of compromise, right? Everyone leaves, dissatisfied and not getting what they want, but at least no one’s reputation is ruined. 

Jack sits in the back towards the middle. Connor sits at the sides near the front, with Marner between him and possible death. Jack almost shouts to Connor to not go and die on him-- after all, they just met. But he doesn’t think anyone would get the joke. Plus, he’s too busy admiring the floor of the boat and trying to drown out all the noises.

It’s pretty eventful even then. They see some alligators, and the guys go fucking crazy for that. Crouse even eats a worm, which was funny at least. When the boat is moving, the tour guide leans down and tries to talk to Jack, eventually getting Jack to sit up all the way and at least look at him to talk, instead of at the floor, pretending he isn’t there.

He can’t help the relief, though, when he steps off the boat, and Hanny is there to put his arm around Jack’s shoulder. He can feel himself shake a little against Hanny’s general stability, but he’s relaxing.

“Next,” Hanny says, “is baseball. We know baseball, and it’s on solid ground.”

“Thank god,” Jack laughs. 

Hanny squeezes Jack closer to him for a split second before dropping his arm and running up to Crouse again, probably to tell him he’s disgusting for eating that worm.

 

*******

 

Marlins park is interesting. Jack’s been around baseball basically his whole life, not that he had much of a choice; he  _ is _ from the Boston area. They get all this cool gear from the Marlins, and he laughs when he sees Hanny kind of frown into the mirror at the logo. 

“It feels… wrong,” Hanny says to him.

“No one’s gonna blame you,” Jack says. “Not like they're good enough to be a threat.”

“Oooh,” Hanny grins. “Burn.”

Jack shrugs but doesn’t stop the smug smile from creeping onto his face. He can finally enjoy himself, and he’s going to. Although, he feels beat and would love to just go home and sleep.

“Okay. Here’s the deal boys,” The PR guy addresses them. “You’re going to batting practice, a tour of the locker room, and you’ll meet the team. We only have three tickets for tonight's game, and they’re going to McDavid, Eichel, and Strome.”

“Why does Eichel still get his?” someone asks. “He’s not even ranked anymore.”

“Was that Zach?” Jack asks the room at large, and he doesn’t bother to turn when he hears the snicker behind him telling him that, yes indeed, it was Zach.

The PR guy ignores them. “Don’t forget your gear--we want you guys to get all of it on before the cameras turn on. Oh, and keep the cameras off of Eichel.”

“I’m fine now,” Jack says.

The PR guy gives him a look, but that’s that. Not that he’s really complaining. He’s pretty sure everyone just immediately got super jealous of him.

“If only I knew that it took having a panic attack to get the cameras off of me, I would have tried that sooner,” Zach says as he comes up to them.

Hanny shoves Zach.  It’s playful, but Jack takes it as a defense of his honor and appreciates it. 

 

******

 

Out on the field, Marner sticks himself to Hanny, while managing to beckon Connor and Strome over. Jack’s not fucking surprised or anything; Marner hasn’t really been subtle this whole time, trying to use his charm and enthusiasm to draw Jack and Connor into the same space. 

He doesn't know what the conversation is about-- Jack’s too focused on the fact that he can feel his face flaming up red again than to hear whatever weird reference Marner thought up to stick himself next to Hanny.

“What are you going to do though?” Hanny asks after Marner goes back to hanging on Connor instead. “I’m not going to be at the game tonight, it’s literally just going to be you and Connor. You two are throwing out the first pitch and everything. You’re going to be alone with him.”

“Whatever,” is all Jack can say. “This is kind of already the worst day of my life, so whatever.”

“Drama queen,” Hanny scoffs. 

Jack just grins at him.

A few minutes later, they call Hanny, him, Crouse, Connor, Marner, and Strome to come stand for the camera. 

Jack is about to make a comment about how they promised no cameras when Hanny just grabs him by the shoulder and puts Jack between himself and Crouse. He can feel the implied “shut up” in the way Hanny moves.

He gets his wish for the rest of the day. The cameras stay off of him and on Connor. He totally kicks everyone’s ass at batting practice, because he’s physically in the best shape out of all of them and he knows this. But once they head back into the locker room area, Jack catches his reflection. He’s bright red and flushed, and not in a cute or sexy way at all. He presses his fingers to his cheeks as he follows Hanny down a hallway. At least it’s cool in here.

“You’re fine,” Hanny says.

“Shut up,” Jack says back. He’s not in the mood for Hanny’s tanned perfection telling him what he is and is not.

They meet some of the guys, take pictures for some of them, get chirped by most of them, and by the time Hanny and the rest of the guys leave, he’s still weirdly red.

“Seriously,” Hanny says. “Your face is fine.”

Jack scrunches his face up at Hanny for that.

“See ya!”

 

******

 

Connor and Jack get taken down to the mound by a PR guy from the Marlins this time. Luckily, the long walk is filled with his rambling about what they need to do. How Connor will go first, and then he’ll wait for Jack to throw out his pitch, and they’ll go back up to the box together where Strome will be, just chilling away from the cameras. 

Jack’s pitch is a lot better than Connor’s, and he’s ready to chirp him about it until he steps off the mound and they kind of just stare at each other for a few seconds. Then it’s awkward, and Jack doesn’t feel like chirping him about anything.

“Alright so,” the PR dude says, coming back up to them. “You can head back up to the suite. You know where it is right?”

“Yep,” Connor answers coolly.

Jack kind of wants to slap him, because someone escorting them back up could save them from all the awkwardness. Connor seems to not see the face Jack’s sending towards him, though. He’s no Hanny, apparently.

Jack stands slightly behind Connor as they head up, because he isn’t sure where they’re going, he doesn’t pay attention to anything.

“So,” Connor says. The sound of the game is around them, but the suite elevators are empty. “Our lives are about to change.” 

He’s trying, Jack can see that. He gives Connor a look. “Like it hasn’t changed drastically already?” 

Connor nods. “Kind of had to go this way though, right? Everyone wanted us to hate each other so bad, and instead, this. My mom always said the universe had a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, it’s hilarious,” Jack says, tightening his jaw.

“Well, you can just relax in the box for the rest of the night. With the draft tomorrow you’ll need it.”

“Why?” Jack scoffs. “I’m not doing anything.”

Connor doesn’t respond to that. “You had a hard day” he says quietly, “Just chill.”

“Just chill,” Jack echoes. 

It’s tense when they get off the elevator, and Jack almost wants to apologize, because it’s not Connor’s fault Jack is a total drama queen. But then, he thinks about how it’s not his fault Connor is apparently an idiot. So he keeps his mouth shut because they're even.

Back in the suite, he sits all the way on the inside of one of the rows, about a seat away from Strome. Connor’s on the other side of him.

He supposed their first conversation since knowing they were soulmates could have gone a little bit better. Connor’s mom is right though -- the universe has a sense of humor, however cruel it might be.

 

********

 

Soulmates aren’t this Disney, true-love’s-first-kiss-and-then-you’re-married bullshit. That would make life way too easy. Jack would love to lay his eyes on Connor and never feel sadness ever again, but that’s not how this works. 

Basically fate has a person for you picked out from the beginning, and they’re the person you’re going to end up with, no matter what. Unfortunately, that means: no matter if their personality is dull or their looks repulse you or you have some widely varying values -- they’re your person, and you don’t get another one. 

That’s why, if you want to make money, you become a couples therapist. 

No one knows how soulmates are chosen--every time a formula is made up they find someone who disproves that. Jack wonders if he and Connor ruined any.

Either way: somewhere along the line, around the 1800s, society found out how to harness fate in a way to get answers, at least about your soulmate. Something about how if you insist that you will end up with the person whose name is written on a piece of paper, fate will have to step in because it can’t risk you trying to go after someone else or  _ something _ . It doesn’t make sense to Jack, but he trusts it. He doesn’t think you’re supposed to understand fate anyways.

The NHL had dealt with draft prospects being soulmates before, they’ve dealt with people already in the NHL having a soulmate about to drafted, they’ve dealt with all of it. So it’s not really that surprising that something like this happened, Jack thinks about it now and liking guys means he’s probably going to end up with a hockey player because that’s what he does with all of his time. He just could never have guessed it was going to be the one player in the world who would go in front of him. And how is that fair, let alone statistically possible? Ranked number 2 in the world, there are 209 people ranked below him and only 1 ranked in front of him, and he gets the one.

And they don’t even like each other.

 

*********

 

His agent explains the situation to his parents. When Connor gets drafted the focus will be on him: Connor will go up to the stage, accept the jersey, the hat, and get his picture taken. By the time he makes it back into the media room Jack will be there waiting for him. Jack’s parents can go wait with Connor’s in the bar to meet up with them later. But from the moment Connor is called first, Jack is Connor’s companion, nothing more. 

They don't sit near each other, which Jack thinks is on purpose. If they keep them separate, Connor will get drafted, the cameras will be on him and Jack can sneak out. But his mom is already complaining about how Jack should be closer.

Jack rolls his eyes before looking towards the stage, a red “Pick Is In” banner is over the Oilers logo and he holds his breath.

They don’t waste any time; Jack watches the procession of management walk up to the podium. He pays attention to the small things, like the single jersey and the single hat, and how neither of them are for him. They have a jersey for him, he’s sure, but in the back. Maybe it’ll even be signed by McDavid.

Chiarelli goes through the thanks to Florida and Oilers fans before he announces what everyone knows. Connor McDavid is drafted first overall and Jack’s dreams of being drafted are finally crushed. He watches, stone-faced, as Connor stands up and hugs his family, the lights shining on them.

Jack gets to hug his family too, but his agent rushes him in the back; they  _ really _ don’t want to make a stir with Jack. 

Jack makes it to the media room before Connor like planned. He gets to pull on an Oilers jersey too while he waits, with only a few people around to see it. When Connor walks through he’s a little breathless, smiling and laughing at something over his shoulder, shouting something back to whoever it was. He looks so happy, his face is absolutely glowing. Jack should feel something, but instead all he wants is to punch Connor in the face a little.

“Hey!” Connor says to him, all enthusiastic.

“Hey” Jack said back, “Uh...congrats” he said.

“You too.” From the way he says it, Jack can tell he means it. Connor is being heartbreakingly sincere in the way he’s grinning at Jack, like they’re sharing a moment. But it just...makes Jack more angry. Connor is missing the point. Jack has to be paraded around smiling, as Connor’s  _ companion _ , like he belongs to Connor and not himself. Jack has to be so excited for this man that took away Jack’s dream, that’s making all of the decisions for Jack himself. He’s pissed and Connor doesn’t even have the tact to apologize or try to be understanding, he just...is so happy for both of them. Like maybe he sees Jack as his own too. Which fuck that, Jack won’t be  _ owned _ by anyone, and it certainly won’t be because Connor plays better hockey than him.

But Jack just smiles and nods. “Thanks,” he says, “Edmonton better get ready.” 

“Yeah” Connor says, “I mean we have to make the playoffs this year right? Like you and me? Who’s going to stop us? We should be the best team in the league.”

“Slow down there tiger.” Jack says, putting his hands up. “We need some defense and a goaltender too, don’t forget that.”

“Whatever,” Connor winks. “We’re that good.”

He’s so happy and all Jack can think is that he hopes no one’s going to expect them to kiss anytime soon.

They hang out a little longer; Connor wants to watch the rest of the draft and he tugs Jack along with him. They miss Strome, who went second overall to Buffalo, but they get to see Hanny get drafted to Carolina. Jack smiles then. Hanny will be far away but watching him get drafted makes him happy in a way that watching Connor didn’t. Marner goes next to Toronto and then Connor is grabbing Jack’s wrist and tugging him back.

Connor lets go of him the moment he sees Strome and hugs him tightly. Jack is thankful for the moment to shake out his wrist and it also means when someone grabs his shoulders, he’s free to turn and hug him without interference.

“We made it” Hanny says when he pulls away, grinning.

“Yeah, we did” Jack is grinning back, pushing at the bill of Hanny’s Hurricanes hat.

Hanny straightens his hat out and stands up tall. Jack sees the moment he catches Connor’s eyes and Jack steps to the side as Connor comes up and shakes his hand, congratulating him the same sincere way he congratulated Jack. 

No one else sees it but Hanny when Jack face falls. His face falls so far he can  _ feel _ it but he’s starting to learn Connor really is an idiot, either that or he’s emotionally shallow. Jack’s bet is on both.

Hanny’s good, though, because when Connor turns back to Strome and Marner comes in, he puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze.

 

*********

 

Jack has to follow Connor everywhere that day, and a few hours in he already wants to go back to the bar to see his parents, but it’s like Connor needs to talk to each individual person who is drafted or they need to go do more media. Jack is tired. He just wants to go  _ home _ .

“Connor.” He tries for soft and gentle, even though he’s feeling rough and cranky.

“What?” Connor asks turning to look to him. He seems oblivious, still so happy and ready to keep going, his eyes still shining. Jack feels like he looks so exhausted in comparison. 

“My parents…”

“Yeah just a few more minutes!” And Connor is gone again.

Jack is ready to start throwing a temper tantrum at that, he’s so  _ tired _ . But looking around the room, it’s full of media. He can’t throw a temper tantrum because that would just make Jack look bad, and they’re all already saying shit about him in the press. So Jack tenses his jaw, and turns to leave. He doesn’t need Connor to give him permission to do stuff.

No one notices him leave. When he finally gets to the bar where his family is, he feels like he wants to start crying. He’s just so tired.

They’re talking to Connor’s family, but Jack pays them no mind when his sister makes a noise to alert everyone else he’s there.

His mom beams at him and rushes over, hugging him. Jack hugs her back, pulls away to hug his dad and then his sister.

“Oh this is so exciting.” His mom says, “Where’s Connor?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m just...really tired.”

“You came here without Connor?” He thinks it’s Connor’s mom who asks and Jack is sure she’s a nice lady, but he ignores her.

“I need go to back to the hotel.”

Jack’s mom nods and pats him on the head. His sister hides him as their parents say goodbye to Connor’s. So, not a great first impression, but Jack is ready to blame that on Connor sucking all the energy from him. But first, he needs a nap.

 

*******

 

Jack wakes up to his hotel room door opening. He turns over expecting to see Hanny but it’s not his silhouette. He frowns and sits up slowly as Connor reaches over and turns the light in the room on.

“Oh, you’re up,” he says, still cheery.

“Yeah,” Jack blinks. “What are you doing here?” He still feels a little drowsy and sleep warm. If he didn’t want to talk to Connor before, he definitely doesn’t want to talk to Connor right now.

“Hanny switched with me.” Connor shrugs off his suit jacket before going over to sit on the other bed. “We need to talk anyway.”

“Oh.” Jack sighed. “Not right now, I need to nap.”

“You’ve been napping for like 4 hours,” Connor says, “and we need to talk about this summer. What we’re going to do.”

Jack almost wants to pull out  “my mom said I can’t” card, but Connor is right even if Jack doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“Taylor Hall already contacted me.” Connor says. “He has space for both of us in his apartment and the team wants us to live with a guy already on the team. You know like, a babysitter and all that to make sure we’re not getting up to anything crazy.”

Jack cocks an eyebrow “When he said he had space for both of us he…”

Connor sighs. “Yeah, there’s only one room.”

“Ugh,” Jack groans, and rolls over onto his stomach. 

“It has to happen as some point right?” Connor asks, “It’s not gonna be that bad. I mean Edmonton gets cold and stuff, but we’ll deal. That’s what soulmates do, eh?”

Jack turns to look at him. “You can’t tell me you were stoked to see my name on that piece of paper,” he says.

Connor shrugs “I didn’t know what I was expecting. It wasn’t you. But… I mean, it could be worse. Did you hear about Marns?”

“That 4th liner?” Connor nods. “Yeah, but if he’s hot then whatever. At least Marner got drafted above him.”

“Come on, you went first overall.”

“You seriously believe that’s how this works? You went first overall so I went first overall?” Jack asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Connor says, like Jack’s stupid. “That is literally how it works. We both got drafted first overall. We’re a unit for the rest of, ever, basically. When someone takes one of us they take both of us. When I get drafted first overall you get drafted first overall.”

“Oh yeah.” Jack feels the anger from the day start to bubble to the surface. He had tried to hide it for so long, trying to be polite and courteous in front of the cameras, but there aren’t any cameras here and he’s pissed. “I must have totally forgot the moment they called my name, and I got to walk up on stage and be given a jersey and a hat, and have my name up on the board. I must have also forgot all the interviews I had on the first day.” 

“You don’t have to be an asshole about this, you ended up going higher than you would have.”

“You’re an idiot!” Jack breathes out. “You actually see this as a good thing for me? Some sort of upgrade? Like going to Buffalo as my own person is somehow worse than going to Edmonton as your...sidekick or whatever?”

“You’re going to Edmonton as a first overall pick.”

“No, you’re the first overall pick.”

“That makes you the first overall pick too.”

“God.” Jack sits up then and full on glares at Connor. “Can you think outside of yourself for two seconds? Just because nothing in  _ your _ life has changed doesn’t mean mine’s the same way. Because of you I was effectively not ranked. Because of you no team even wanted to talk to me. Because of you Buffalo is fucking pissed and calling me ungrateful. Because of you people are blaming  _ me _ for taking advantage of the soulmate system or whatever.” Jack takes a few deep breaths. “Just because  _ you’re _ the first overall pick, just because everything has gone your way this weekend does not mean you can put that on me, because I’m miserable.”

Connor is gritting his teeth before he opens his mouth and says, “So how is this my fault at all? This is happening because those are the rules. You weren’t as good as me that’s how life, and the fucking draft, works. I didn’t ask to be your soulmate either and I didn’t ask for these stupid rules. But the stupid rules are there anyway and you benefited from them…”

“How did  _ I _ benefit from them?”

“You wanted to go to Buffalo?” Connor asks, disbelieving, “Are you kidding me? You wanted to go to that shithole?”

“And Edmonton is better?” Jack asks. “What favor have you done for me Connor? What has this opened up for me, what opportunity has this given me that I couldn’t have gotten myself?”

“You couldn’t have gone first overall yourself.”

“I  _ didn’t _ go first overall!” Jack shouts. “I didn’t go at all, I followed you around all day doing what you wanted to do because if I did anything else I’d look like an ungrateful bratty kid.”

“No one asked you to follow me around.”

“Yes. They. Did.”

“When?” Connor asks. “And who? Tell me. Because I’ll let them know to stop doing that. I don’t need you following me around resenting everything I do so you can yell at me for it later, if that’s how this whole thing is going to work.”

“Screw you, McDavid. They’re just sheltering you from all the crappiness but who cares if I have to go through any of it, I’m not the second coming of hockey christ.  _ I’m _ expendable.”

“No one is sheltering me from shit!”

“Yes they are! They have been all weekend! You know what my agent has been doing all weekend? Letting me know teams don’t want to talk to me, teams need to see that I have a good attitude, and that I needed to be there to support you. What has your agent told you, huh? Just enjoy yourself? The draft only comes once don’t let it get away from you?”

Connor stands then. “Maybe you are an ungrateful, bratty kid,” he says, “because you sure as hell haven’t acted like anything else this whole time. Having a fucking breakdown like a princess at the Everglades, glaring at Hanifin all day, treating my mom like shit.”

“Woah,” Jack stands too. “I didn’t do anything to your mom, I was tired and I was about to have a fucking breakdown so I just came back here. She wanted to know where you were and I assumed if you cared for her to know you would have showed up earlier.”

“Oh fuck you, Eichel,” Connor clenches his fists by his side and Jack kind of hopes Connor will punch him, if only so Jack can punch him back and  _ win _ . But Connor just releases a deep breath and says, “I’ll go get Hanifin,” then leaves.

 

*********

 

They don’t talk about the summer; they don’t really talk at all after that. Jack goes back to Chelmsford for the summer. He trains with Hanny and Coyle up in Boston, hangs with some of the BU guys, and even talks to some of the Edmonton guys. 

The first few texts from Hallsy take him by surprise.

_ Oh my god I didn’t know _

_ I’m so sorry _

_ I can get Luke to move out so you can have your own room seriously I don’t even like him that much _

_ I’m kidding don’t tell Luke I said that _

_ I can talk to the Oilers about you two staying somewhere else _

He laughs happily as he reads through them. It doesn’t say Taylor Hall, it’s just a string of numbers, but he can deduce from the texts who it is. Jack quickly saves the contact and messages him back.

_ It’s alright, I’ll make him sleep on the couch _ .

Taylor thinks that’s funny and they talk pretty much daily after that, but Taylor’s also talking to Connor daily and thinks it’s super weird that Jack and Connor aren’t saying anything to each other. Jack tries to explain to Taylor that you don’t immediately like a person just because they’re your soulmate, especially when you’re in Jack’s position. Taylor tries to be empathetic; he gets Jack’s point, but he always follows it up with that he understands Connor’s position too. He feels stuck in the middle and he hasn’t even met Jack face to face yet.

Jack starts talking to Leon too somewhere around June. The hours are weird because he’s in Germany but he quickly becomes Jack’s true ally. They facetime at least every other day but sometimes multiple times a day.

“You’re a clingy fuck,” Leon says, somewhere near the end of July. Jack had called him from where he was at a lake up in New Hampshire with some of his BU guys. 

“I just wanted to show you the sunset!” Jack pouts before turning the camera around, “Look, you don’t get shit like this in Germany. This is a premium, Grade A, New England sunset.”

“I’ve seen sunsets before.” Leon sounds bored, but Jack knows that Leon is just as much of a drama queen as he is, which is what makes their relationship so good.

He turns the camera back around and grins at Leon’s scowl. 

“I’m bonding” Jack says.

“We’ve bonded” Leon says, smirking now. “Have you bonded with anyone else on the team? Say maybe Connor?”

“He’s my soulmate, I have literally the rest of my life to bond with him” Jack rolls his eyes. “I mean he hasn’t reached out to me either and he was the one who called me ungrateful and bratty.”

Leon nods. “You’re a complex man Eichs, and he’s very… simple” 

“You can talk shit about him to me, I don’t care” Jack says, sitting back down in the lawn chair he was previously occupying before he got up to show Leon the sunset. He’s alone on the dock, but he probably won’t be for long. Some of the boys went on a beer run, another went to go take a shower, and Jack’s been left alone. And he isn’t clingy, per se, except that if he isn’t talking to Hanny he’s talking to Leon. 

“I have to like him too” Leon scoffs, “You’re pretty much a lock for the rest of your career; some of us have to actually try to make the Oilers.” 

Jack glares at Leon. “You’re not funny, you know.”

“I gotta go, call me when you get that silver spoon out of your mouth.”

“Screw you,” Jack says, and hangs up, Leon’s giggling face freezing on the screen before the app closes completely.

Edmonton’s going to be fun.

 

*********

 

A few days later Jack gets a text. He’s hanging with Hanny, their last day together before the NHL takes over. He happily reaches over, expecting Leon but instead sees Connor. He can’t hide the way his face drops.

“Ah,” Hanny says. “He beat you, you know. He texted you first he’s the bigger man.”

“He’s a POS,” Jack mumbles before opening the text.

_ Let me know when you’re coming up, I’ve been up here for a few days now. _

“He’s already in Edmonton.” Jack grits his teeth. “Way to make me look bad McDavid.”

Hanny giggles as Jack texts Connor back.

_ Tomorrow _ is all he says. 

_ See you _ .

 

********

 

Leon is supposed to pick him up from the airport, which is nice. Jack hasn’t even met him face to face, which feels weird, but they’ve talked so much that it doesn’t feel awkward at all when Jack wheels his suitcase out onto the loading dock and Leon steps out of his car, hat on and sunglasses pulled down.

“Sup, man,” Leon says he puts his arm up for a hug before Jack has to make it awkward and ask. Jack has to remind himself that they’re basically the same person and they both are weirdly affectionate. 

They don’t even bro hug, they both agreed bro hugs were stupid weeks ago, and it’s really nice. It’s nice that he has someone he can replace Hanny with when he’s in Edmonton so he’s not here alone. Some of him was still kind of scared that Edmonton would be Connor’s team and not his at all. So having a guy who’s his friend over Connor’s, it feels really nice. 

“Do you have to take me to Hallsy’s?” Jack sighs when he climbs into the car with Leon.

“I heard he couldn’t wait for to see you,” Leon says, turning the car on.

Jack rolls his eyes. “Sure that wasn’t you?”

“Oops, simple mistake.” Leon’s smiling as he watches the road. “I still don’t really know my way around so forgive me,” he adds.

“Are you serious? You’ve been here for a season already.”

“Yeah, but I stay on the other side of town,” Leon grins. “Hey, we’ll have an adventure together.”

“Take your time,” Jack says, “I’m in no rush.”

Leon laughs. 

They stop to get food at a drive thru and eat in Leon’s car, talking like they have all summer. Jack takes a second to feel lucky, again, that he has someone here in Edmonton that’s  _ his _ friend and doesn’t belong to Connor. Maybe he feels selfish, and a little guilty, for treating Leon like some territory he won. But so much of Jack’s life has been revolving around where Connor is going to go, and what’s happening with Connor, and how does Connor feel about that, and why aren’t Connor and him closer? But Leon isn’t preoccupied with that stuff, they just talk about random shit, this funny thing that Leon saw a video of which reminded Jack of this stupid thing Coyle did with Hanny, and then Leon is talking about this inside joke he has with his dad. It’s been almost 45 minutes before they realize they need to get back home soon.

“Whoops,” Leon laughs when he checks the clock. “They’re gonna think we died.”

“Or that you kidnapped me on the way.”

“That’s a good idea actually, let’s run away to Russia, join the KHL.”

Jack laughs, leaning on the centre console. “God, why couldn’t you have been my soulmate or whatever? Kind of feels like we already are.”

“Yeah,” Leon says, there’s a sigh there. Leon is one of those people who never got a soulmate, who received a letter in the mail that said “soulmate unidentified.” Leon’s already told him the wording is bullshit. If his soulmate existed they would be identified. He just doesn’t have one. He can still love, he’s told Jack, but no one’s a guaranteed forever. It sounds so scary to Jack. He may dislike Connor a lot, but at least Connor is a constant and will always be a constant. He can depend on Connor to always be there, if nothing else.

Leon seems pretty okay with having no soulmate; he doesn’t get all weepy or emotional about it, he doesn’t get stoney or cold, he just shrugs it off. But Jack usually tries to stay away from the topic. It’s good for both of them to focus on something that’s separate, that’s meaningless, that’s just them screwing around. That’s probably the best part about Leon, the best part about them being together.

Leon drops him off at Taylor’s and gets out of the car with him.

“You don’t have to, like, move me in or whatever,” Jack says

“They’re my teammates too,” Leon says as he pulls Jack’s suitcase out of the back.

“I can do things for myself.”

Leon just smiles at him and passes him the handle to Jack’s suitcase.

He does like that Leon is following him up, feels sort of like he’s entering enemy territory with someone on his side. The hand that Leon puts on Jack’s shoulder as he goes to knock on the door and then open it slowly feels a little bit like a shield. 

Taylor’s apartment is big, but the first thing Jack thinks when he steps in is that it feels lived in. The TV is on, it smells like food, and the lights have a warm orange tinge to them.

“Oh!” Jack hears from the kitchen before Taylor pokes his head into the living room, “You’re here finally, I thought Leon kidnapped you.”

“We almost went to Russia,” Leon says, putting his arm around Jack’s shoulder.

Taylor rolls his eyes. “I’ll go get Connor.”

“You don’t have to” Jack says.

Taylor is already walking down the hallway when he responds, “Well, if he’s jerking off, I want him to at least be done by the time you need to move your luggage in.”

The door at the end of the hallway opens before Taylor can get there.

“I finished like an hour ago.” It’s Connor. His response makes Taylor and Leon laugh a little, and Jack would laugh if it was anyone else. Instead he just sort of leans on his suitcase and stands there, a little awkward. 

“So,” Taylor says as Connor follows him back into the living room, “I am making dinner but it’ll probably take a while because I’m not really an adult.”

“And they let you adopt the two powerhouse rookies?” Leon asks.

“Well mostly it was Luke,” Taylor admits, “but he’s not here yet, so for like three days I’m going to be the primary caretaker.”

“Luke’s not much better” Leon says.

“Do you, uh…” It’s Connor. “Want me to take your suitcase?”

Jack gives him a weird look, “I can move it myself.”

“Literally just trying to be nice,” Connor says pinching his thumb and forefinger together, “But suit yourself.”

There’s a long pause.

“It doesn’t have to be this awkward,” Taylor pipes up.

“Last time they talked Connor called him an ungrateful brat.” Leon says, a smirk like he’s not making things significantly worse. But that’s Leon.

“Yeah, after he blamed me for literally everything that went wrong in his life.” Connor smiles back to Leon, a little tight and mean.

Leon just puts his hands up in surrender, still seeming way too entertained by everything.

“Hey, let’s not have a fight Jack’s first night here.” Taylor says. “I know we’re super excited to tear each other apart but I’m actually making dinner, and I never make dinner, so you can see this is really important to me that this night go well.”

“We’ll go unpack,” Leon says, and puts his hands on Jack’s shoulders before pushing forward slightly.

 

********

 

Leon leaves before dinner saying something about being invited over to the Ference’s. He’s completely immune to Jack’s huffing too which is the worst part. He makes a big deal about placing a kiss on Jack’s forehead in front of both Connor and Taylor before leaving.

“So you guys are close.” Connor says.

Jack nods. “He actually talked to me over the summer.”

Hallsy cuts in before Connor can respond. “I’m glad you’re making friends!” It’s a little forced but Jack doesn’t blame him. “You can watch whatever on TV, I’m going to make sure we have something edible to eat in about an hour or so.”

“Cool.” Connor turns on his heel but Hallsy stops him.

“You guys are going to be spending the night together, don’t you want to try to not hate each other?”

“Nope,” they both answer at the same time as Connor continues towards the room and Jack plops down on the couch.

“Alright,” Taylor nods “We’ll catch up later,” he says to Jack before going back to the kitchen.

 

********

 

Dinner is just as weird as Jack expected. Taylor is focusing his attention towards Jack, which means he can’t just awkwardly eat his food and ditch. Connor looks like he’s about to employ that tactic though.

“Did you have a good summer?” Taylor asks. “Who do you work out with?”

Jack shrugs. “Hanny, Coyle, some of the other Boston guys. Shawn Thornton kind of hangs around but he doesn’t have a lot to do with us,” he laughs. “Ference told me he was in Boston for a bit but I was up with my friend in New Hampshire at that time.”

“How far away is New Hampshire?” Connor asks down at his food.

“Why?” Jack asks.

“You couldn’t go see your teammate for a few days, because you were what? Too busy getting drunk on a lake shore with your boys?”

Jack points to him. “You’ve never had to drive to and from Lake Winnipesaukee before, so I’m going to excuse your comment as ignorant” Jack smiles before continuing “It’s about 2 hours without traffic but in the summer, good luck.”

Connor raises his eyebrows, making a face down at his food but he ignores it.

“Good deflection,” Taylor says, “Seriously, guys. If you two end up murdering each other before Luke gets here they’ll totally blame me for that.”

After dinner Jack helps Taylor clean up. Connor helps too, but he doesn’t seem to want to linger in the kitchen much so he’s out of there before either of them are. Taylor asks him more about his summer, without the judgement of Connor around. And they just talk, not like the way Jack can just talk with Leon but it’s easy anyway. 

“You’ll be good like, sleeping in the same room as him tonight? Or do you want the couch? It probably won’t be good for your back.”

“It’s my room too,” Jack says 

Taylor nods. “Just don’t… I’ve talked to Connor too, but you guys gotta try --”

“There are more important things right now --”

“Than your soulmate?” 

Jack sighs and shakes his head. “Not everyone has to be with their soulmate at 18. Not everyone makes it work when they’re still barely an adult. We’re doing what we can and I don’t know if we can be together right now.”

“Well, you are.” 

 

*********

 

“Okay so,” Connor says, “I like the side closest to the door,”

“That’s fine,” Jack says.

“Really? You’re not going to fight me on this?” Connor seems genuinely surprised but his tone is still sharp and pointing.

“I’m tired.”

“Are you a cuddler?” Connor barrels right over Jack, “Because, like, I just need to be warned.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never slept in the same bed with someone I also didn’t want to cuddle.” Jack looks at him. “I’ll do my best to stay on my side, you stay on yours.”

“Alright.”

“I’m not gonna attack you with affection,” Jack says. 

Connor just nods.

But Jack is really tired. He doesn’t want to talk to Connor, he doesn’t want to fight with Connor, he just wants to curl up and go to sleep. He ignores what Connor does to get ready for bed. Jack just does his thing, texts Hanny and Leon good night, and gets into bed.

 

*********

  
  


They try their best to stay out of each other's way until training camp, but there’s so much, it’s so overwhelming. Jack can’t handle overwhelming things the way people like Connor can. Leon was right, Jack is complicated and Connor is simple. 

When they first arrive for training camp it’s busy, there are people everywhere, other players and coaches and trainers. It’s all the same and yet still so new. Part of it is exhilarating, to wear an Oilers jersey and stare down at it because it’s really happening. Both of them are basically a lock for making the team, and Jack knows that, but there’s still a sort of pride he has when he sees the way he matches up against some of the other players. In comparison Jack looks like a seasoned veteran next to guys years older than him. 

Connor and him are in different groups, so they don’t see each other a lot during the day. Then, when they’re home, they stay away from each other, and they’re both so tired that going to bed isn’t even a thing anymore. They have their routine: ignore each other and crash. 

 

******

 

They both make the Oilers going into the preseason and a weight is lifted off of his shoulders. But then he’s called into the manager's office, just to see that Connor is already there.

“Hey,” Chiarelli says as Jack sits down. “I just wanted to check in with you two. Obviously we were expecting to get Connor as a way to help turn around this team, but getting you as well, Jack, has really given us a hope that we can double the speed of this process. But it’s important you’re both doing well.”

“We’re doing fine,” Connor says. He sounds annoyed, like maybe this wasn’t the first time he’s tried to tell Chiarelli this.

Jack bites at the inside of his lip though. On one hand, he doesn’t want to talk about them not doing fine because it isn’t really a problem, their hockey is good and that should be all that matters. But on the other hand, he hates that Connor is talking over him, hates that Connor took something addressed to  _ him _ and made it Connor’s. 

“Jack?” If Connor has said it before, Chiarelli has obviously ignored it before.

“Even if we aren’t great, I don’t see it being a big deal,” Jack decides. “We’re both doing fine, with hockey. That’s all that matters.”

He sees Connor put his face in his hand off to the side, before running his hand through his hair. Jack gets a sick pleasure knowing he pissed Connor off.

“Connor has been trying to tell me there’s nothing to worry about, but that’s not what I’ve been hearing,” Chiarelli says. “If you have different insight on this I’d like to hear it, Jack.”

Jack sighs and re-situates himself in the chair. “We don’t like each other.”

Chiarelli nods. “Why?” He doesn’t seem surprised

Jack shakes his head. “We just don’t get along, we just… don’t fit together.”

“Well excuse my language but I think we all know that’s bullshit.”

“Unless,” Connor says, “I got some random kid named Jack Eichel and he got some random kid named Connor McDavid and we’re not each other’s soulmates, everyone just overreacted.”

Jack gives him a look, he can’t help it, but Connor doesn’t turn to see it. 

Chiarelli gives Connor a pity smile before continuing. “I want you guys to see a couples therapist. You may think it only matters how you play hockey,” –he says that to Jack– “but we’re investing in you guys long-term, so we need to make sure we’re helping you guys at every step of the way.”

Connor’s face is back in his hand, he seems so pained by the idea.

“Well, I can always talk about my feelings,” Jack says, he can’t help the smug grin.

Chiarelli closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You’ll be seeing her once a week unless we’re on a road trip.”

“Starting when?” Connor asks.

“After the preseason, get some rest.”

 

*******

 

“Here’s the plan,” Connor says as they sit in the waiting room of the therapist's office, “if we act like everything’s alright we’ll be able to go sooner.”

“You think that’s how this works, seriously?” Jack asks. “She’s a professional, she’s going to see through that BS. It’d be a lot quicker to just be honest and let her help us. Besides, I was only kind of joking. I have a lot of feelings and I’m ready to talk about them.” He presses his hand to his heart.

Connor doesn’t think it’s funny, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. But that doesn’t matter because Jack thinks it was pretty funny and is smiling to himself. 

Ever since preseason started Connor has made a big deal to Taylor and Luke at home, Ebs at the rink, and Strome over text about going to therapy. Jack will let anyone who asks know he’s a total drama queen, but Connor has been giving him a run for his money recently. 

“It’s just therapy,” Nuge says, making a face one day after practice. Jack has a stall next to him and both of them are right next to Connor, who’s going on and on about it to Luke. “Feel sorry for you, man” he says.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “I’ll get him to confess his love to me.”

Nuge laughs. “Please don’t. He’ll complain about that to us too.”

“Which is unfair, that’s my job.”

That makes Nuge laugh again.

But Jack doesn’t have anyone to make sly comments to when it’s just him and Connor sitting in the waiting room. They’re a little early but Connor seems to think the sooner they get there the sooner they get to leave, because he doesn’t understand how appointments work, or whatever. 

“Can you calm down?” Jack hisses as Connor started tapping the wooden arm of the chair he’s in.

“Fuck off,” Connor quips, “you have like no right telling anyone to calm down when you have a fucking panic attack over everything. If I want to freak out about being stuck in a room with you being made to talk about my feelings, I get to.”

“Hey, save the really mean stuff for the meeting” Jack says. “You don’t want to waste all your good material out here, you need her to see how angry you are. It might get us through this faster.”

Connor glares at him and Jack just smiles back.

The therapist calls them in only a few minutes later. She has this cool aunt vibe, which is the first thing Jack takes in as they enter the therapist's office. There’s a couch that Jack assumes is for them and a rocking chair for her. She’s decorated it all homey too, with plants and pictures and books. It’s cluttered, but it feels lived in, not like an office she works out of.

She shakes both of their hands. “I’m Christen Hammond.”

“Connor,” he says, a little wary about shaking her hand, like touching her is going to make him start spurting out all these feelings he was trying to ignore.

“Jack.” He tries for a more chipper tone, a sturdier handshake. He isn’t going to say it out loud then but maybe when they get home Jack will point out how she definitely liked him better than Connor.

“Please take a seat,” she says, her hands opening towards the couch. They follow her instructions as she sits across from them in the rocking chair. She picks up a clipboard, places it in her lap, and looks down at it for a few minutes as Connor and Jack get comfortable on the couch. “So your bosses hired me, which usually puts a damper on things.” She smiles up at them. “But i’m working for you, not them. Everything we say here is confidential, unless it’s illegal of course. But unless you guys give me permission, I can only tell them how much progress we’re making. So this is a safe space.”

“Oh, you don’t understand,” Jack starts, “it’s not about what the Oilers know, he just doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well, that’s probably why you’re here.” She’s smiling, so Jack totally came across as charming as he was aiming for.

“The first session is usually intake so I want to see if we can address some core issues that you guys feel we should work out sooner rather than later, and just get some background. The team gave me some stuff about family and medical history, but I want to hear your side too.” Neither of them go to respond. “Okay, so, Connor, what do you think the main problem is here?”

Connor slumps back in the coach and links his fingers together, staring down at them instead of her. He seems thoughtful for a few beats before he just shrugs.

“Anything you can put your finger on will be very helpful.”

Connor sighs. “I don’t like him.” It’s simple. Jack knew it was the truth but part of it stings. They’re still having fun together, right? Or maybe that’s just Jack teasing him. 

“Okay, why don’t you like him?”

Jack turns to him, expectant. Connor just sighs and shakes his head, but that’s okay, because Jack isn’t going to let him get off the hook. “You had a lot to say out there about what you didn’t like about me, I told you to save it for in here.”

“Fine” Connor snaps. “He’s a drama queen, everything is a big fucking deal to him, and then whenever something is hard for  _ me _ it’s like the best thing in the world. He acts like this fucking perfect and charming person, who he never is with me, just to make me look bad. And he whines about everything, he blames me for everything, he’s a brat, he’s ungrateful, and he does everything in his power to annoy me.”

“Really let it out,” Jack says.

“Jack.” Christen doesn’t like that.

“Sorry,” Jack smiles.

“You’re doing what he’s accusing you of aren’t you? The charming thing,” she asks. Jack shrugs and smiles. “Well, Jack what do you think is the problem.”

“Think he covered it,” Jack nods.

“Do you not like him either?”

“Of course I don’t like him,” Jack says “This is the way he talks about how me, of course I don’t like him. He’s emotionally shallow… and just… he isn’t smart. He doesn’t see anything except for his own feelings and I get yelled at for even daring to have my own. He expects me to hear what he has to say and just go along with it.”

“That’s bullshit,” Connor says. “I wouldn’t care about what you feel, if you didn’t  _ feel _ like I’m responsible for the, what, three things that have gone wrong in your life, ever?”

Jack bites at his lip and smiles without humor as he shakes his head; he’s so ready to go off on Connor again before Christen cuts in. “So seems the main issue here is anger. Which is great, because anger is a surface emotion used to cover up pain. If we can get down into that pain and really dig it out, we can bring you guys to a place where your relationship is healthy and happy.”

“What if I don’t want to be with him?” Connor asks. “Like, what if we’re not supposed to be together till we’re 50? I could do that, I could wait 30 or so years to fall in love with him, I’m in no rush.”

“You know how fate works,” Christen says. “You guys meet when you’re supposed to meet, this is how it’s supposed to go. You need to work out this tension now so that when you’re older and have bigger life issues you’ll have the tools to overcome those as well. Even those who like each other never just fall in love with their soulmate, it takes time and work. They’re just like every other relationship. That’s why people who aren’t given soulmates tend to lead very fruitful love lives as well, because it just takes work. Just because we have a piece of paper giving us the last answer doesn’t mean every other question isn’t blank.” There’s a pause. “And if all else fails, I can just be terrible to you guys so you bond over how obnoxious I am.” She’s probably joking but Jack still feels a spike of fear. He wants to turn to maybe share that moment with Connor, but if they make eye contact, they will have just proven her point, and Jack would like to avoid that tactic all together. 

 

*******

Going into the regular season Jack is put on Connor’s line. Which is just another blow, another thing he has to give up by being with Connor. This team doesn’t need more centers, not of Jack’s caliber. They have Connor and Nuge and Leon. Jack’s too good to be a third or fourth line center…  _ Leon _ is too good to be a third or fourth line centre and he already is stuck there. So they make Jack a winger and stick him on Connor’s line. 

It’s tiring, being on Connor’s line, because all he can think is that Connor is faster than him, a quicker thinker than him, that Connor is just a better hockey player than him and it’s right there in front of him the whole time. 

It makes him angry, and frustrated, and Jack has never been much of a physical player but there’s so much energy in him. During their game against Dallas he starts throwing hits, he can’t stop himself, even when his coach gives him the eye. 

In the third period Jack’s skates leave the ice, his elbow is up, and he hears the whistle blow before Eakin even hits the ice. He feels bad about it immediately, trying to catch his breath as he stares down at him.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing that leaves his mouth but the ref is already pulling him away, “I am, I didn’t mean too…” Jack starts pleading with the ref but no one is listening to him. Everything is rushing he can’t hear anything. 

 

******

 

Jack gets 2 games for the hit. They take him off of Connor’s line and put him on Nuge’s.

 

******

 

He stays at Nuge’s after the suspension. He can’t look at Connor, or even be in his presence. He knows all he’d get is disgust and disappointment and Jack already feels that so fully. Jack is so good at shrugging off Connor on most days but when this hits so deep, when he feels so bad and angry at himself already, he doesn’t need to hear it from Connor.

Since Jack got the suspension a few days after the game, he’s going to miss a total of three, his next game back is going to be at home.

The headlines already are ripping him to shreds, saying that he’s everything Connor thinks he is. He’s ungrateful, he’s a brat, he’s a loose cannon, the Oilers are better off sitting him for the rest of the year, he’s not good enough, he’s not worth it, he’s a menace. Jack’s own internal monologue isn’t even that brutal to him. And he’s just so scared to go somewhere that’s his home and get all of those headlines thrown at him from someone who’s supposed to be his one and only.

Nuge is good about it though. He thinks what Jack is being put through is bullshit, he thinks what Connor is putting Jack through is bullshit. He barely hides it from Connor himself, rolling his eyes whenever Connor snaps at Jack. But it’s okay, because when Jack gets in a sly comment about Connor he gets glares too, mostly from Ebs. 

God, he’d love to see what would happen if the media got ahold of that, that Jack was personally the cancer in the locker room that was splitting the Oilers apart even though so far they were perfect on the year. 

But everything is Jack’s fault.

 

******

 

Their second therapy session is before Jack’s first game back and it’s the first time he’s seen Connor since the suspension. When Jack enters the waiting room he doesn’t meet Connor’s eyes, just sits in the closest chair and pulls his phone out. He just needs to keep his head down, and stay quiet. 

“Hey,” Connor says.

Jack nods once to acknowledge him.

Connor doesn’t say anything after that and Jack of course keeps his mouth closed. He smiles at Christen when they're being lead into the office but doesn’t say much else until he’s addressed directly.

They talk about the suspension first, because of course they do.

“He’s been at Nuge’s since the suspension.” Connor, apparently, is fine talking about someone else’s feelings.

“Why?” This question is very obviously pointed to Jack, who has been trying to ignore everyone in the room for as long as possible. That apparently is over, though, because Connor doesn’t even offer up an ‘I don’t know.’

“I didn’t want to go to home,” Jack says, simply. It’s the smart ass answer, but it’s not wrong. 

There’s a short pause, “Okay. Jack, why was that?”

Jack rubs at his forehead, “Because I let the whole team down and I didn’t want to go home and have to hear it. I just wanted to… pull away, get alone time around someone who wouldn’t judge me for that.”

“You feel judged by Connor.”

Jack lets out a snort. “Of course I do.” He looks up. “The reason we’re here is because of how judgemental he is.”

“Yeah the only reason we’re here is because how shitty I am.” Connor gets in, because he always has to.

“Exactly” Jack says, forcing a smile and an overly chipper voice.

Connor just rolls his eyes.

Jack works his jaw out and cracks his neck, trying to release the tension here. He can take Connor’s shit all day long as long if he’s in the right headspace for it. He almost always is, too, is the thing. But right now he feels like he might punch Connor if he speaks again. He’s not in the mood. Connor can go back to hating him once Jack stops hating himself. 

“Connor, we’re going to listen to Jack right now.” Christen’s voice is steady as she turns back to Jack. “Why does Connor’s judgement of you matter now?”

She’s really going all in with the questions. Jack takes a deep breath, though, determined to be better at this therapy thing than Connor.

“Because I have the same judgements of myself.” Jack says. “I did let the team down, I did make a dangerous play, I hit a guy in the head with my elbow. You don’t do that, it was a bad hit and I deserve more than two games for it. And I know all this, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, I could have really hurt him, completely ruined his life and they gave me two games. And besides– I mean, the media has not shut up about how…” he pauses to bite at his bottom lip. “Everyone is blaming me for this and I blame me, too. I just couldn’t be around someone who was going to make it worse.” By the time Jack is done speaking he’s ended up pulling at the fabric of the couch he’s sitting on, too uncomfortable to look at anyone else in the room.

There’s a quiet, and long pause, and through it, Jack can hear the wall clock tick away. 

Connor is the first to talk. “Why did you even hit him? I know you’re strong, and… big,”– Jack can hear the way Connor cringes, but to his credit, Connor doesn’t stop–  “but you don’t play that way. The best part of your game is your shot. You’re a scorer. You’re built like a guy who can throw his body around, but you aren’t that guy. No one in the room blames you for what happened, but we’re all just confused.”

Jack bites at his bottom lip again, ripping at the skin there, tasting a little blood as his foot starts to bounce as well. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“This is too much,” Jack says. “Is there a safeword for therapy sessions? Because if there is, I’m using mine.”

“This is really important to talk about, Jack, and I know it’s painful and exhausting, but that’s how you know it’s doing something.”

“I need a break,” Jack says, “I think I’m going to have a panic attack.”

“Okay, there’s a bathroom down the hall.” She seems to understand the gravity of what Jack is trying to explain to her. “Take your time.”

Jack nods, but he’s already pushing his way through the door and out into the hallway. When he finds the bathroom, he shuts the door, locks it, and sits on the floor against the wall, trying to take deep breaths through the pounding in his head and chest.

 

******

 

Jack isn’t an idiot, and so he doesn’t play like that anymore, doesn’t throw hits anymore. It’s easier now too, being on Nuge’s line. He still has to watch Connor be better than him from the bench but there he can just pretend Connor is a faceless Oilers player and get excited about it. 

It’s great too, because Nuge and him are connecting on everything. He hates being pushed to wing, still, but at least he doesn’t resent Nuge. He’s still on the power play with Connor but he can block him out there, almost appreciates the easy pass he’ll get from Connor. Almost.

The point is, Jack learns, and by the end of October and going into November everyone’s shut up about how he’s singlehandedly the worst thing to happen to the Oilers. They’re winning, too, a lot more than they’re losing. Jack keeps scoring and Connor keeps scoring and yeah, goals keep going in at the other end, but Talbot is holding strong and a win is still a win if it’s 6-4.

 

******

 

Therapy isn’t going as well, though. Christen is still trying to get out of Jack what freaked him out the first time but he just… doesn’t want to talk about that anymore. There’s no point in talking about something he’s already gotten over, not to them. Because Connor is healthy. Connor is an emotionally shallow idiot, but he’s healthy, so he doesn’t get it. There’s no way Connor can understand how absolutely terrified Jack was to go home, and how making himself so vulnerable in therapy  _ did _ warrant the panic attack. 

They’ve fought since then, and Connor did call Jack a drama queen again for the incident, saying he was just trying to get attention, play the victim, stuff Jack has heard his whole life. But it’s not like Jack just took it–  he called Connor out on being insensitive, on being selfish, on not even thinking about other people’s feelings. 

Jack stands by what he says and he’s pretty sure Connor does as well, so of course he doesn’t want to bring it up. Talking about it with Connor isn’t going to do anything except make Jack feel like more of an idiot.

But Christen seems to think that’s a good thing, or something.

“Out of character behavior is important to pinpoint,” she says, “because if it’s something that could come up again, we want to be able to handle it.”

“I was just having a bad few weeks.”

“And you’ve been fine after being off of Connor’s line.”

Jack groans and puts his face in his hands. “I learned my lesson.”

“Come on, say it,” Connor says finally, after sessions of sitting back and letting Jack get badgered. “You’ve already said why you hate me in the first place, I know you’re not trying to spare my feelings. But we both know  _ why _ you were so angry, you were angry at me, you were angry that you weren’t allowed to keep your centre position, you were angry you had to play with me. Why is that so hard for you to say?”

“Because,” Jack says softly as he turns to Connor a little, “You’re taking everything from me.”

He puts his face back into his hands at the sound of Connor’s sigh. 

“You’re still…” Connor stops. “You’re still one of the best players on this team, you’re still doing so well.” 

“I know” Jack says, dropping his hands “and I’m okay now, I’m better. playing with Nuge on his line has been great.” He looks up at Christen then. “I’m fine.”

“You’re going to be with Connor for the rest of your life, being fine with Nuge is a start, but it’s not the answer. You can’t replace Connor with Nuge in every aspect of your life.”

“I only hate Connor because of hockey, so that solves that.”

“That’s because you don’t interact with him outside of hockey.”

“We sleep in the same bed! What else do you want from me?”

“I want us to get to the point where that’s not something you brag about,” she says. “I want you guys to get to the point where you don’t hate the fact that you’re soulmates. To the point where you aren’t resenting Connor. And to the point where Connor is able to think about your feelings.”

Jack doesn't say he doesn’t think they’ll ever get there. Especially since he knows the answer: they’re soulmates, of course they’ll get there, that’s the only thing in life he’s assured.

 

********

 

But then Connor goes down. It’s their first game in November, they have barely started the season and Connor slams into the board shoulder first because of some sadist on the Philadelphia Flyers. 

Jack doesn’t… he’s so angry he can’t even think. It’s unprecedented, you don’t jump off the bench onto the ice because of a bad hit, you don’t do it to start wailing on some other guy, you don’t do it to start a fight. Jack himself has never done it, never even thought he would be the one to do it.

But Connor is going to be the best hockey player in the world and someone is taking away his rookie season, his first chance to really inspire hope in this city that doesn’t have a lot of it. It pisses Jack off so much, he feels hot with rage, uncomfortable and needing to move, and still somehow out of his body. He can remember clearly thinking how weird it was he was doing this as he gets a fist to the face. Jack doesn’t care about that, though, he just wants to ruin this kid’s season like he ruined Connor’s. 

Jack doesn’t know how many penalties they assess him with but he’s thrown out of the game and he goes willingly. If he stays out there any longer he might kill him anyway. He’s never been this angry in his life. 

When he gets home that night, Connor is sitting on the couch, his arm in a sling and he’s holding it close like he’s worried it’ll go somewhere. He’s almost cowering, making himself look so small. Jack feels his heart break, just a little bit. Because if there’s anything he can understand it’s having things taken from you, things that are so important, and there’s nothing you can do about it because it’s no one’s fault. It’s just how life works.

 

******

 

Jack gets slapped with another suspension, a little longer this time. But he doesn’t even care, the coaches aren’t even mad at him for it. Even the media is printing stories about how he’s a hero, how he’s tough, and willing to do what others weren’t. They’re also talking about their relationship and how they must be so in love. But Jack brushes that off.

He gets a call from the league, though: two suspensions in his rookie year is crazy, and the league doesn’t want to keep sitting him but he has to cool down. They have sympathy for him though, they take into consideration Connor is his soulmate, they understand the anger, he thinks. Which Jack appreciates but he’s not sure  _ he _ understands the anger. All he wanted was for Connor to understand how he feels, and now that Connor does, it’s almost worse than when it was just Jack. He could pout and whine when it was just him, maybe play the victim a little. But with Connor all he wants to do is punch a wall. 

It’s not fair. Connor’s so good, and he may be a dick to Jack but all he wants is to put the Oilers jersey on and represent this team, make everyone proud. That’s all he ever wanted. And how can something as pure as that be ripped from someone? It’s not fair.

 

********

 

Connor spends most of his days he’s not with the team doctors sitting on the couch and just staring at the tv blankly. He can’t lay back easily, so he’s almost always propped up, his sling pulled tight to keep his arm from moving. Everything he does has to be one handed which is hard for him. Jack can see him struggle quietly, moving awkwardly when he thinks Jack isn’t paying attention. 

Jack does it on purpose too. Will pick up his phone or pretend he has to get something from the other room when he can tell Connor is trying to do something but is too scared to look like an idiot in front of Jack.

He tries to help, too, but Connor hates that so much. Always snaps, “I can do this myself, I don’t need you.” And all Jack can do is put his hands up in surrender at that. He takes the help from Taylor and Luke, though, and Jack takes it personally, but he’s not bothered by it. The looks Connor throws him says it loud and clear; he  _ hates _ Jack, resents him, wants him to lose something too. 

If looks could kill. 

 

********

 

They send Connor to therapy when Jack and the rest of the team are on a long road trip out East. Jack knows this because Connor was complaining about it to Taylor when Jack was in the kitchen with them, pretending he had to be making a sandwich when he really was just trying to check up on Connor without him noticing. 

“It’s ridiculous, but apparently they’re worried about, like, depression and stuff, since this injury is long term,” he huffs. “I’m fine, I’ve had injuries before.”

Taylor doesn’t say it sucks, even though Jack can tell he wants to. Because it does suck, but telling Connor that will only get him to shut down. So Taylor whispers a soft, “Yeah, you’ll be good, bud.” And Jack doesn’t look up at all, which he hopes Connor appreciates.

They’re going to be gone a whole week, though, and Jack worries a little about Connor being alone for all that time. He gets Taylor to ask about it and Connor waves Taylor off, assuring him that he’ll be fine, he still has to see doctors regularly and everything. Taylor seems placated, giving Jack a look like “See? He’s fine,” but Jack doesn’t feel like he’s fine. 

“He’s lost everything, Taylor,” Jack had hissed at him. “I know how that feels, he’s not going to be okay.”

“He’s not you,” had been Taylor’s response. It’s fair too, because Connor isn’t as much of a drama queen as Jack is. But even the most emotionally shallow people can become sad, and Connor has maybe the best reason, behind Jack.

And even though Connor said he’d be fine, Jack gets a text from him when he’s on the plane from D.C. to Raleigh. 

_ Christen says we need to start working on intimacy  _ is what he sends, there’s an emoji attached that suggests Connor is not about this idea. It makes Jack laugh a little. 

_ Sucks for you _ he texts back.

_ You too _ Connor responds almost immediately so it must be worse than Jack thought. He just thanks god for in-plane WiFi and iMessage as he settles in to try to keep Connor occupied for the hour before they land. 

_ Yeah, how am I supposed to cuddle you? You’re broken _ . It’s a risk, but he thinks Connor may appreciate not being pitied.

“Ha. Ha.” Bingo.

Connor double texts,  _ I’ve never cuddled someone bigger than me, so idk what I’m supposed to do with you either. _

_ Wow that’s sad _ , Jack responds.  _ Do you live under a rock? _

_ Yes _ , Connor sends, and then,  _ You’re not my type. I’ll be honest. My first reaction when I found out you were my soulmate was you were too big. _

Jack rolls his eyes.  _ Great. Thanks. _

_ Whatever _ , Connor texts, Still heartless. That settles Jack a little, he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. At least Connor can find it in himself to still act normal. Jack can’t say the same for himself when he’s messed up.

_ I’m just saying, hope you’re ready to be the little spoon. _

_ Ah well don’t worry about that _ , Jack texts,  _ I’m a seasoned vet. _

There’s a longer pause there than there has been before and Jack almost decides to just put his phone down but as he’s about to it buzzes again.

_ Seriously??? _

The third question mark is unnecessary, Jack thinks, but he responds with a short  _ yeah _ anyway.

_ But you’re so big. _

_ So? You've never heard of a guy above 6 feet being the little spoon? _

_ No, not really. _

_ You weren't joking about living under a rock. _

_ Ha. ha, _ Connor sends again.

_ I don’t think she meant that kind of intimacy right off the bat, tho, _ Jack texts him,  _ We probably should hug and hold hands first. _

_ I can hold hands. _

Jack smiles.  _ Me too. _

 

*******

 

He doesn’t get a lot of time to see Hanny in Raleigh, but when he does, Jack kind of falls into him. Hanny’s always been one of the best huggers, so they stand there for a bit before even saying anything, just hugging it out. They text pretty much daily but seeing him and touching him is so different.

“What a year, huh?” Hanny says when they finally pull away.

Jack scoffs. “You have no idea.”

Hanny reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “The games you have played you’ve played well, and with Davo out you’re totally going to get to be the Edmonton savior.”

Jack makes a face at that. “He could be back before the end of the season.”

Hanny raises his eyebrows. “Okay, dude, whatever you say.” Jack can’t tell if the main emotion behind it is sarcasm or pity but Jack thinks it doesn’t matter. Hanny is probably right, but Jack doesn’t want to think about that just yet. Connor is basically superhuman, no one has ever seen anything like him. He can come back from this.

 

*******

  
  


They come back from the road trip with 6 points out of a possible 10, which is a winning record as far as Jack’s concerned. He got a goal in 4 of those games and is working on a nice record, being the top centre on the Edmonton Oilers in Connor’s absence. He can’t help but feel shivery, like the ice has been injected into his veins, and it’s somehow feeding him to keep pushing and keep getting better. 

He hasn’t felt this good in months.

 

*******

 

Connor looks a little paler than Jack remembers when he gets back, like he’s been spending too much time indoors.  Connor rolls his eyes when Jack mentions it. 

“What, you want me to go relax in the sun in Edmonton in December?” he asks. He has a point, so Jack just shrugs. 

He seems better though, in some ways. He asks Jack if he can make lunch for them instead of trying to struggle through it himself. Jack does so without complaint. It’s just sandwiches, so it’s not like there’s a lot of effort here or much for him to screw up, but he thinks he does a pretty good job, and Connor eats it all. 

“You keeping the weight on?” Jack asks.

Connor gives him a look as he chews. 

“Is that a stupid question?” he asks again.

Connor sighs and puts the sandwich back down, “It’s rough when I can’t move my arm and they want me to just relax right now. But I feel like the more I stay on top of everything the quicker I’ll be back, right?”

“Do you think you’ll be back?” Connor gives him another look at that question too, his brow furrowed and a small frown creeping across his lips. “I think you will,” Jack says, looking down at his sandwich. “Everyone just seems so certain that you’ll miss the rest of the season. But they don’t know how hard you work.” He looks back up. “Besides, watching me upstage you is probably motivation enough.”

“You’re playing well.” Connor makes a sour face “I’d rather be out and you playing well than be out and you playing like shit.”

“Admit it,” Jack says, “you’d kind of love to see me struggling.”

“I’m not that petty.” There’s a pause. “Okay, maybe a little bit.” 

“I get it, I’d kind of hate me too,” is all Jack says.

Connor shoots him a small half-smile before he focuses back on his food. He’s still struggling a little with eating with one hand, but he’s definitely getting better at it. Jack doesn’t really feel the need to jump in and help him anymore.

 

*********

 

“Here,” Connor says as he arranges the pillows on their bed. “I still can’t lay down all the way, but you can, like, put your head in my lap or something.” He makes a face. 

Jack isn’t super stoked about this either; talking is easy between the two of them, now, and Jack doesn’t want to call him an emotionally shallow asshole all the time either, but he isn’t sure if they’re at the head-in-lap stage of their relationship either. Connor is determined though– he’s a man on a mission. Apparently the one-on-one therapy sessions really kicked his ass. Or he’s just bored, sitting around with nothing to do but work on his relationship with Jack. Maybe it’s a better escape, their mess of a relationship, than the pain of not playing hockey.

Connor slips into the bed easily, even as he holds his injured shoulder rigid, a practiced balance to the way he shimmies under the covers. Jack gives him a bit to settle the blankets and the pillows so that his shoulder is propped up properly before he starts to climb into bed as well. He keeps his moves gentle, trying not to jostle anything too bad, but Connor is watching him impatiently more than thankfully. 

Jack huffs and curls up around Connor, resting his head, lightly at first, on Connor’s hip. He holds his breath and keeps his body rigid, just sitting there. It’s uncomfortable, in the way that his neck is holding most of the weight of his head, the way he’s sleeping and crushing his own hand. But he’s too scared to move.

“This is awkward’ Connor says. “Come on, stop.”

Jack huffs again and pushes himself up. “This is weird. I’m sorry, we don’t do this and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Connor says “Now, come on, put your head down and just relax. I’m not broken  _ every _ where.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Jack shakes his head before lying back down. This time, he settles more on his stomach so his arm is free, his other arm draping across Connor’s waist and his head resting fully along his waist as well, just over Connor’s pelvic bone so it isn’t digging into the side of Jack’s head.

“See, better,” Connor says, before his arm comes down, the healthy one, to drape along Jack’s shoulders. It’s awkward, because Jack is so far down Connor’s body, but it draws every thing together. Jack lets out a long breath. 

The TV is on because Connor hasn’t been able to sleep well, or so he told Jack when they were in Tampa a few days ago. It cuts through the awkwardness still lingering between them, gives them both something to focus on other than the fact that Jack is curled up in Connor’s lap, or that they barely even can consider each other friends and are already working towards “physical intimacy.” 

Jack falls asleep to some infomercial about some really sharp knives; Connor squeezing his shoulder is one of the last things he can remember.

 

********

 

Connor rehabs like a madman, doing everything he can as perfectly as he can. It’s a little scary, if Jack is being honest, but this is what he’d meant when he’d said that Connor was superhuman,  _ he is _ . So mostly, Jack is just impressed. 

He also cuddles like one. Every free moment Jack has, Connor is pulling him down one-handed to sit next to him on the couch, making Jack rest on his shoulder, on his chest, any way that Connor can feel comfortable and still hold Jack to him.

“Well, at least you can say you cuddled with a guy over 6 feet now,” Jack says during a cuddle session involving his head resting in Connor’s lap as they watch a football game.

Connor flicks him in the back of the ear in response, making Jack slap the inside of his knee.

“Stop! I’m injured!” Connor cries

“So you just get to beat me up?”

“Yeah.”

Jack looks up at that and grins, and Connor’s grinning back down at him. “Watch your stupid football before I change the channel.”

“Romance,” Jack says, but turns back to the TV. 

“What?” Connor asks, “you want me to stare deep into your eyes? Is that what you want Jack?”

Jack snorts as he settles in more comfortably, “That’s not romantic; there’s nothing going on in your big dumb head and it shows.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, space case.”

“Fuck you.”

Jack grins into Connor’s thigh.

 

********

 

“You know,” Connor says as Jack slowly pulls his arm away from his chest. Jack had gone to a session of PT with Connor to help learn how to stretch Connor out without hurting him. “I’ve won academic awards, so you can stop calling me dumb.”

Jack snorts and pulls a little harder at Connor’s arm. Jack wants to cringe for him but Connor doesn’t seem to mind. “Seriously, I did English and shit.”

“I’m sure you’re very smart, Davo” Jack says.

Connor glares at him as Jack presses his thumbs into Connor’s palm to slowly start raising his arm up. “What, you think you’re so smart because you went to university? I know how the NCAA works, did you even go to any classes?”

Jack laughs. “Oh, low blow.” Connor’s eye twitches as Jack lifts his arm almost all the way up. “I’ll have you know BU is a fine institution with a lot of integrity.”

Connor rolls his eyes as Jack brings his arm back down. “That’s just a lie, why would they want you at their school if that was true.”

“I’m handling your broken arm,” Jack points out. “If there was ever a time to be nice to me, this would be it.”

Connor just grins at him.

“Either way,” Connor says after a beat or two, “I’m the smarter one.”

“Okay, we’ll go with that.” 

Connor is still grinning when Jack realizes he hasn’t let go of Connor’s hand, his fingers still lingering around the knuckles. If Connor notices, he doesn’t say anything.

 

*********

 

Eventually, Connor’s body starts to feel better all over. The rehab has been intense, he almost has full range of motion back, and the worst of the pain is stiffness right when he wakes up. The physical therapist has walked through more of Connor’s treatment with Jack, showing him how to massage at the scar tissue on top of the stretching Jack is already doing. 

It crosses his mind after another couples therapy session that this stretching routine is just another intimacy thing Christen has set up for them. But Jack doesn’t say anything about that to Connor. It’s just… Connor jokes with Jack when he’s stretching his arm out, maybe to distract from the discomfort, Jack doesn’t know. But he grins at Jack and calls him a douchebag and he’s got all this open happiness on his face. It makes Jack feel like maybe things in Edmonton are going to be okay.

Everything else is good too. He and Leon go bowling one Wednesday afternoon, just because they can.Leon almost breaks his finger trying to get it out of a bowling ball, but that’s it for damage. They’re mostly just drinking beer and eating gross chicken wings and laughing as Jack hits the gutter three times in a row and Leon’s ball swerves out of the way of all ten pins at the last second.

“Even off the ice, we’re still Oilers,” Leon grins. 

Jack laughs from where he’s laying on the benches staring at the ceiling. Leon is lucky no fans are around right now, but he’s right. It’s just ironic. 

On the ice, Jack is doing well too. The Oilers are picking up a few more losses as the season goes on but Jack is by far their best player, top line centre and all that. There’s a lot of buzz going around about what they’re going to do when Connor gets back, they can’t move him to the wing when he’s proven himself so well. One article even suggested Jack should be top line centre in front of Connor. But Jack doesn’t linger on that one. 

Everything is good, and when Jack rubs at the scar tissue on Connor’s shoulder, it all makes him smile, settled for the first time in what feels like months. 

It still catches him off guard when Connor says, “you’re gonna win the Calder.”

Jack pauses and looks up at Connor, hoping his expression is something along the lines of ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ but Connor looks pretty pained that he even said it.

“Seriously, you’re like, really good.” 

“Are you sick?” Jack asks, he looks back down at Connor’s shoulder at that as he digs his thumb in, still a lot more gentle than the PT.

Connor scoffs at him. “No I’m just being nice to you because you’re handling my broken shoulder.” When Jack peers up at him again he has that playful grin, “For real though, some nights it looks like you’re carrying the team. Which. I mean. Sucks to say, but it’s true. You and Talbo.”

“Well, that’s what it was like with you, before you got hurt,” Jack says.

“Not like this,” Connor says, “You were still good.”

“Well thanks, Davo” Jack says. “It must have pained you to say that.”

“It did, I’m glad you recognize my sacrifice.”

Jack thinks they smile at each other dumbly for a good 10 seconds, and it’s not even awkward. 

 

*********

 

Because Connor is starting to feel better, cuddling at night becomes less Jack just laying across Connor and more actual cuddling. Jack wakes up one morning with his hand tucked along the side of Connor’s neck, his nose pressed against the other side. He doesn’t remember falling asleep pressed this close, but Connor feels warm and pliable and Jack sighs into it. His leg is thrown across Connor’s thighs and he knows he’s bigger than Connor, but he feels so solid under Jack. 

He doesn’t linger like that, though, pulls away slowly so he doesn’t disturb Connor. The arm Connor had around his waist slides off limply as Jack climbs out of bed. He has to be to the rink in an hour, but Connor gets to sleep in a little before the team doctors need to check him out. 

Jack is glad about it; Connor needs the sleep. He’s been getting a lot of rest recently, but the first few weeks of him being injured were hard, and Connor had barely rested at all. He has a lot to catch up on. 

Jack showers, brushes his teeth, stumbles into his clothing, and makes it downstairs in time for Luke to have breakfast ready.

“Thanks,” Jack says, his voice unused from sleep.

Luke nods to him. “Just pass to me tonight, I could use a goal.”

“Well, when you take such good care of me how could I not?” 

Luke nudges him with his arm before passing a plate to Jack. He doesn’t know if things are still tense between them or if Luke is just quiet. With Connor out, the rift in the locker room has settled, but people are still cautious, tiptoeing around the idea. It feels more like a ceasefire than a peace treaty. 

Hallsy is easily the happiest person in the room, though, wrestling with Ebs and teasing Nuge about how pretty he is and how sculpted his eyebrows are. 

It’s Jack’s first year here, but he gets the feeling this locker room hasn’t had a lot of lightness in it in the past few years. There’s a twinge of pride in Jack’s chest as he ties up his skates. When Connor went down, there was a feeling of dread all through the city, but it had slowly dissipated as the games went on. Their record is above .500, and they’re in a Wild Card spot. There’s this low buzz of optimism that seems to be resting slowly on Jack’s shoulders, and instead of being overwhelming and terrifying it feels… amazing.

It’s their last game before the Christmas break; his parents got into town just in time for the game, and Jack feels everything rush through him during it. He’s flying, his feet barely feel like they’re on the ice at all. 

He doesn’t get Luke his goal, but he gets one himself, and they beat the Jets 3-1.

After the game he finds his family fast and can’t help but fall into them the same way he fell into Hanny. His sister is the first one to him and he squeezes her hard enough that she lets out a shout and hits his shoulder. It makes him laugh, happy and open as he hugs his parents.

It’s not Christmas back in Mass, but it’s Christmas with his family.

 

**********

 

They leave the morning of the 26th and Jack is the one that checks out of the hotel for them. When they left at 5 that morning he’d been gently nudged awake enough to hug them all goodbye before crashing back on the bed to get up for real at 10. They had stayed in a suite with two rooms. It wasn’t like home was at all, but it was so nice. It kind of dawns on him, as he’s looking for the other key card to the room, that he’s so lucky to have the family he does. So lucky that his family came all the way from Chelmsford to Edmonton just to spend a few days with him because they felt he needed it. 

When Jack gets back to the apartment, it’s still pretty early for an off day, and he’s not surprised it’s silent. He doesn’t really know what the other guys were doing for Christmas, too wrapped up in his own family to even ask. 

He makes his way to the bedroom first, to unpack the few things he brought to the hotel and got as presents. He’s quiet, he can recognize the lump on the bed as Connor from a mile away, and Connor still needs his sleep. 

Connor doesn’t get up until a few hours later when Jack is looking to make lunch, shuffling into the kitchen with his eyes still squinting a little.

“Morning,” Jack says.

Connor frowns at him.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks.

Connor nods and goes to sit at the island, watching Jack closely. Connor doesn’t specify what he wants, so Jack just goes to make him the same thing Jack just made himself, a sandwich. It’s not breakfast food, but if Connor doesn’t want it, then Jack gets two sandwiches. He can’t lose.

“You’ve been gone,” Connor says when Jack puts a plate down in front of him.

“Yeah, I was spending Christmas with my family,” Jack says slowly. He has a terrible thought then and his eyes widen. “You weren’t alone were you?”

“No” Connor says, “My parents were here.”

“Okay, good,” Jack nods. “We stayed a hotel.”

“You should have been here,” Connor says. “It’s Christmas and stuff, it could have been both of our families. Besides, Taylor and Luke were both gone too. There was room.”

“I’m not going to make my family stay in Taylor Hall’s room.” Jack says.

“Well, you could have stayed in your room,” Connor says. “They could have come here.”

He’s still drowsy, Jack can tell, the way his eyes look sore still. It’s not worth fighting Connor on anything so Jack just nods. “Sorry,” he says, “Didn’t cross my mind.”

Connor frowns again, “I hope you had a good Christmas.”

“Do you? Or are you just being a polite Canadian boy?”

Connor rolls his eyes at that, “No, I do, for real. We’re both pretty far away from home and I know you like, hate everything all the time. So you getting to see your family is important, especially with the last part of the season coming up.” 

“Aw, Davo, you were almost nice to me for a bit there. Almost beat the record.”

It’s their usual teasing, and it makes Connor smile.

 

******

 

Jack has tried jerking off to the thought of Connor before, which feels backwards and wrong to say. He’s spent so much of his hockey career pointedly not thinking about teammates in that way so to try to do it now feels like he’s perving on Connor. But he’s not– or, well, he is, but he’s  _ supposed _ to. 

It’s just– he can’t picture it, can’t seem to fathom Connor wanting to touch him at all, or what Connor would do if he had the chance. Jack thinks of what he likes, the sensitive spots at the base of his neck, the feeling of teeth around his lower lip, and then he thinks of Connor, but the two images don’t mesh. He doesn’t think this is what people mean when they say the first time with your soulmate is unimaginable. 

But Jack isn’t necessarily having a hard time getting off, either. He stands in the shower and leans against the forearm he has pressed into the tile wall as he wraps a hand around his dick, breathing shallowly. He sticks with memories and porn he saw once. He remembers the first time he was ever fucked, in some random guy’s bedroom with the sound of a party going on right outside the door. It was fast and messy and slutty and just a little bit drunk, but nothing since then has matched the shocky heat that’s still imprinted in his mind. 

God, it was so good. He misses it.

 

********

 

Connor has a PT session scheduled at the same time they’re supposed to go in for therapy. Jack assumes this would mean that Connor just doesn't go to PT, but when the trainers explain to him that Jack is supposed to go to therapy from the rink alone, Connor just gives him a shrug.

It’s fair, technically, with how many solo sessions Connor has had, but Jack is still bummed out by it. Besides, who knows what Christen will rip out of him without Connor there.

It’s the same sort of setup, same couch, but Connor just isn't there next to him. It feels weird and hollow and Jack doesn’t like it. He’s more fidgety than he’s been in a long time. If he’s being honest, he would have thought therapy would have ended by now, with Jack’s season and relationship going so well.

“How has everything been?” Christen asks. “With you? I’ve had a lot of one on one time with Connor, but you, not so much.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s been great,” he says. He wants to ask her if she can’t just tell, if she doesn’t even just turn on the games to watch him play, see the points he’s putting up.

She seems to read his mind a little because she leans to the left in her chair a little and says, “Not just with hockey, with everything. How was Christmas?”

“It was good,” Jack says “My family came up to see me, which was nice. It’s been too long, and they’re so far away, you know? That was nice. And everything else has been great too, Connor and I still aren’t fighting.”

“Do you worry that’s temporary?” 

“What?” Jack asks. “What do you mean?”

“You went from fighting with Connor almost daily to not fighting with him at all. Since he’s been injured, you’ve been great. Everything Connor has told me is that you’ve just been there to help him out. He even says you haven’t been passive aggressive,” Christen says. “So I just wonder if you worry that this calm is temporary. Connor hasn’t changed.”

Jack bites at his lip, chewing at the dead skin. “It’s not… it doesn’t matter,” Jack says. “He’s hurt. Whether this peace is temporary or not doesn’t matter. It’s not about… any of that. It’s about Connor getting better as fast as possible.”

“He still took away your chance to get drafted,” Christen says. “He still thinks it was ultimately what was best for you, still thinks you should consider yourself drafted first overall.” 

Jack can feel something bubble in him. “That’s not the point right now.”

“He’s getting better,” she says. “They think he could be back soon. What happens when he’s healthy and back on the team? What happens when you’re moved to the wing or knocked down a line? He’s hurt, and I understand you’re worried, but what about the things you went through? Connor heals and gets back into the lineup, but then what about you?”

It’s a lot. The questions are a lot, talking about Connor is a lot, her bringing up all that past shit is a lot. Jack has to take a few deep breaths and rub at his forehead, eyes closed. He doesn’t… none of that matters right now and Jack doesn’t want to focus past. He just wants to take care of Connor.

“I just want to take care of him,” Jack says. “What he went through wasn’t fair. His dream was taken from him too. That’s what I empathize with. When he’s better, he can empathize with me.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Christen asks.

“He will. That’s what you do for your soulmate- you treat them right.”

“He’s very different from you,” Christen says, “His opinions on what is right and wrong are different. You need to start preparing, emotionally, for the idea that when Connor gets better all those negative feelings and resentment could bubble up in you again and come back out. And we can start here, so you can be better faster.”

Jack shakes his head and looks back down at the armrest of the couch, 

“This injury seemed to fix all your problems, but it just covered them up. You’re hurting, Jack, maybe not physically, but you are hurting. And pretending you aren’t is only going to make things worse.”

“I’m looking out for him, that’s what I need to be doing.”

“Who’s looking out for you?”

 

********

 

A few days later, Connor kisses him. It takes Jack by surprise. Connor just runs up to him after a PT session at the rink. Everyone else is gone and Jack is just waiting for him to go back home. The moment Connor sees Jack his eyes light up and he grabs Jack’s shoulders. “I’m going in” he breathes. “They’re going to clear me for the start of February.” He seems so happy and his eyes are so bright and everything is a rush.

Jack is opening his mouth to say how nice that is when Connor kisses him. It’s fast and it’s mostly chaste but it lingers enough for Jack to feel the buzz of Connor’s lips still on his when they part.

“I’m going to play again,” Connor breathes when he pulls back.

“Yeah.” Jack can barely hear his own voice.

 

*******

 

Jack wonders if he can get injured before February.

 

********

 

Connor starts practicing with his no-contact jersey and the feeling on the ice brightens immediately. Connor is back in his top line role, but they don’t move Jack to the wing, instead giving him the second line centre role with Leon on his wing. 

He tries to ignore the twinge of jealousy when he looks at the lines and sees his name under Connor’s. He’s playing centre now, already an improvement on the beginning of this season. He got his chance and he proved himself and he’s being rewarded. He shouldn’t care at all about where Connor is, especially since MacLellan tells him he’ll probably get more ice time Connor’s first game back. But that’s just one game being on the top line over Connor. Jack isn’t stupid enough to think that will last.

But they’ve been good, they’ve been laughing and joking with each other. They don’t fight. Christen is wrong; there is nothing to worry about. Jack has had Connor’s back and Connor is going to have his. That’s how soulmates work.

 

******

 

Connor is lying on the floor with his head propped up as he watches whatever golf tournament is on the TV. Jack doesn’t really know how he ended up down there, but he thinks it has something to do with the couch not being great on his shoulder or something. Not that the floor seems any better to Jack, but it’s not his body. 

“You golf?” Connor asks, his voice loud.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “I mean, kind of.”

“We should,” Connor says, “this summer. We should go golfing together. Just as long as you promise not to break any of my fingers when I beat you.”

“Ha!” Jack says. “I can promise no fingers are getting broken, but I can’t promise I won’t slaughter you.” 

“That’s a lot more violent, Jack.”

Jack just smiles warmly. Connor’s eyes are still on the screen and his feet are kicking in the air. There’s still a few more games until Connor comes back, but they’re a long way from the cowering, pale, sickly kid he was. Connor really has gotten better. Jack just wonders if he was this carefree and happy even before that, or if somehow, part of his good mood is because of Jack too.

Connor’s phone on the side table buzzes. Jack leans over and sees Mitch Marner’s contact pop up. Connor is smart and has the message preview turned off. Jack makes a mental note of doing that to his own phone one of these days in case Hanny sends him an emotional drunk text and the wrong person sees it.

“It’s Marns,” Jack says.

“Huh? What’d he say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, can you check?!” Connor sounds annoyed with him which makes Jack roll his eyes. But he does as Connor says anyway, picking up his phone and unlocking it easily– his password is 9787 which is the lamest thing Jack has ever heard. 

The text itself is innocuous:  _ so are you coming back against CBJ or Ottawa, asking for a friend _ . but that’s not the text that catches Jack’s eyes. He shouldn’t scroll through Connor’s texts, but he can’t stop himself; he sees a photo message and just keeps scrolling up.

It gets worse and worse the more Jack scrolls up. There’s pictures, a lot of them, the shit Connor should really learn only to send through Snapchat. Their faces aren’t in any of them, but Jack isn’t stupid–  there’s no other reason for them to be sending pictures of bare chests covered in cum unless it’s their chests. The accompanying messages about Mitch’s mouth and Connor’s dick don’t help either.

Jack feels suddenly and overwhelmingly sick.

“Jack,” Connor’s whiny voice does little to bring him back to full awareness.

“What?” He hears himself respond. It feels like the fight he had after Connor went down. All he can think is how weird this whole thing is even as he screen shots a particularly racy message and sends it to himself. 

“What did Mitch say?”

“Oh” Jack says. “He wants to know if you’re going to be back for the CBJ game.”

“Ah, tell him that’s the plan.”

When Jack presses enter on the text he doesn’t really feel like it’s him doing it, but he does; it pops up on the screen and it says delivered under the little bubble.

Jack just gently puts the phone down and gets up after that. He can’t breathe.

 

*******

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s in the bathroom, head between his knees just waiting, waiting for everything to settle down before he leaves. He doesn’t need to be in a good mood, doesn’t need to feel okay, just needs to be able to see straight and breathe and get back into his own body. The white tile of the bathroom seems to pulse in and out, and Jack thinks maybe that’s a bad sign, but it’s keeping him distracted, gives him something to watch through the tightness in his throat. 

It must take a while for his breathing to return to normal and for him to finally feel back in his own body, because there’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“Jack?” It’s not even fucking Connor. “Connor says you’ve been in there for a while, are you okay? Can you let me in?”

“I’m fine!” Jack calls, but he can hear the weakness in his own voice.

“Jack.” Taylor’s voice gets softer. “Let me in.”

Jack is sitting against the wall right next to the door, so he just has to reach up and turn the knob, popping the lock and letting Taylor slowly open it and walk in. Taylor goes to sit in front of Jack and studies his face closely.

“I’m fine,” Jack says, but his voice isn’t any less weak.

“Connor said nothing happened but we both know he doesn’t see anything.” Taylor pauses when Jack tucks his head back between his knees. “If nothing did happen, it’s still okay, you know? To be upset.”

“Something happened,” Jack says, laughing darkly, he looks up and rubs at his forehead. “Connor’s been sexting Mitch Marner.”

“What?!”

“I don’t know for how long, but the last week, at least. Which is all that matters, right? I’ve… I’ve had his fucking back the past few months.” Jack shakes his head. “I’ve had his back since he was injured and he hasn’t had my back for one second.”

“Oh, Jack…”

“He said I wasn’t his type, that he’s never been with a guy who is over 6 feet tall. This is probably what he means, right? Even if we do manage to get along he still won’t want to touch me, he’s still not attracted to me.”

“That’s not…” Taylor sighs, “I don’t think he sees it that way, I don’t think he’s thought that hard about this, you know? He’s an idiot, okay, and I love him, but he’s not the smartest and he’s definitely not observant. You have a right to be angry, but don’t start hating yourself over this, he’s just…”

“Shallow?”

Taylor grimaces, but doesn’t disagree.

 

*********

 

Jack goes back to staying at Nuge’s and does his best to not interact with Connor as much as possible. At practice they have to interact, in the locker room they have to interact. Jack doesn’t want to make this a big deal because he doesn’t need any more people digging into his relationship. That’s what makes Nuge such a good friend: he doesn’t ask, he just lets Jack crash at his place. Taylor is the friend he has heart-to-hearts with, and Leon is the one he bitches at. He needs Nuge’s kind of friendship right now, though.

It doesn’t stop Connor from trying to talk to him. Jack doesn’t know what Taylor told him, but Jack isn’t up for explaining to Connor why telling another guy you want to feel them cum on your dick is bad when you’re with your soulmate. Besides, Connor is coming back into the lineup soon. That should be the focus. He just wants to focus off of him. 

It doesn’t help that everytime he sees Connor he wants to throw up. It makes him almost miss the anger from the beginning of the season. That made sense at least. This just hurts.

 

*********

 

When they get back from their southern road trip, Jack has to go home to get a change of clothes. He hopes he can just sneak in and out and have it be done with, but that’s dashed almost the moment he walks into the door.

Connor is standing there, at the entrance to the living room, staring directly at Jack like he was waiting for him.

“I thought that was your car pulling in.” His voice is soft and warm and Jack’s stomach reels. 

“Yeah, I need a change of clothes,” Jack says, trying to keep it as factual as possible. Connor doesn’t do heart-to-hearts, he can still get out of here without getting sick, he thinks. Maybe.

“You have clothes here,” Connor points out. “You can just stay here, you know?”

Jack doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look Connor in the eye, stares just to the side of his head at the corner of the wall. 

“I just want to know what’s going on.” Connor’s voice is rising and Jack feels so tired. “We were doing great, and then you just disappear on me! Taylor says I fucked up. But I just...I don’t know what’s going on, and you’re gone, and it’s not fair, because I don’t know what’s going on!”

Jack closes his eyes and breathes through his nose.

“We’re supposed to work on this stuff, or what? Now that I’m back and you can’t be the star player, you hate me all over again. You have to pity me to like me?”

Jack blinks his eyes back open and sighs. “I’m happy you’re back,” he says, because he is. At the beginning of the season it didn’t seem possible, but Connor being back is the only good thing going on right now. The team will start winning more often than not again, and the lightness in the locker room is unmatched. He wants Connor back, that was never the problem.

“I thought we were getting somewhere,” Connor manages.

“Me too.” 

The words echo around them, just staring at each other. Jack shakes his head out after a few beats and walks towards Connor, stepping around him to get to their bedroom. He expects Connor to follow him, but he needs to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Just tell me why you’re mad at me. I can’t apologize if I don’t know.”

Jack bites his lip as he rummages through drawers to grab his clothes, stuffing them into his road trip suitcase as quick as possible.

“Come  _ on, _ ” Connor stresses. “Talk to me, you love talking.”

Jack stands up and walks up to Connor. The inch he has on Connor had never felt like  _ so much _ before. He thinks feeling big is supposed to feel nice, that a lot of people prefer it. But Jack never has; there is vulnerability in feeling small but at least when you’re small someone else can scoop you up. Someone like Hanny or Leon or Taylor. 

Someone like Connor.

“If I promise I’m not mad, will you let me leave?” Jack says. “I’m tired, I just want to get back to Nuge’s.”

“There’s a bed right there–”

“Connor!” Jack breaks in, the desperation in his voice cutting through the stubborn air around Connor and making him pause. “Please, I’m not mad, just let me go.” His throat catches. He just wants to go. He can’t be here.

Connor doesn’t say anything, just steps away from him and nods. 

 

*******

 

Jack is named to the All-Star Game, but he doesn’t get to just run away to Nashville. They make him go to the therapy session before he’s supposed to leave. Jack considers having a full blown breakdown just to get out of it but bites his tongue when Chiarelli shoots him a look. It’s only an hour, a terrible and horribly awkward hour, but it’s only an hour. Jack can do that. He can keep his mouth shut for a full hour.

It takes as long as seeing Connor in the waiting room for Jack to decide maybe the breakdown plan is the way to go. It wouldn't be hard, a storm is churning in his head and his stomach is doing backflips. He’s been  _ this close _ to ripping his hair out and throwing up at the same time for the past few weeks. He could pull it off.

Connor tries to meet his eyes when Jack sits down next to him, but Jack is just as determined to not look at him at all. 

Maybe it’s not fair that Jack isn’t telling him what’s wrong, but the thought of saying it seems like worst case scenario. How does he tell Connor it’s wrong to cheat, especially when Connor obviously doesn’t consider it cheating? How does he tell Connor he feels betrayed when Connor doesn’t think there’s any reason to be loyal? 

Christen was right; if anyone was looking out for him, it wasn’t Connor.

When they get called into the room, Connor is already sharing hopeful looks with Jack, like he’s so excited that they’re both going to be here and be forced to talk. Jack just keeps thinking about the plane ticket he has to Nashville back home.

“So,” Christen says, “I’ve heard you’re back at Nuge’s, Jack. What’s going on?”

“Really getting to it, eh?” Jack sighs, his eyes already pointed in his lap, with no intention of moving them.

“Jack…”

“I don’t…” Jack breathes out, “You were right, he’s just different from me. I can’t expect him to treat me the way I treated him. I can’t expect him to have my back.”

“What?” Connor cuts in, “you can’t expect me to have your back? Jack, I… I have your back! You’ve been the only person who’s… throughout my injury, everyone either pitied me or treated me like I was done for the year. You were the only one who treated me the same and still had faith in me. Of course I have your back.”

Jack closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He can’t, he doesn’t know how to breathe.

“How do you have his back?” It’s Christen.

“What?”

“What have you done to have his back?”

There’s a short pause. “I have his back I swear, I’m not, I’m not a dick to him! We’ve been getting along! We’ve been joking around. He got into the All-Star Game, he’s going to win the Calder. He’s the best on this team. I have his back.”

“I did that,” Jack says.

“What?” 

“I did all those things, I got into the All-Star Game because I played well. If I win the Calder it’ll be because I worked to win it. I’m the best on this team because of the way I played. How is that you having my back? Did you break your collarbone on purpose to give me this opportunity?”

Connor is silent, and Jack refuses to meet his eyes.

“I have your back,” Jack says, “and I have my own. That’s it.”

“What? No, I have your back, I promise.” Connor’s voice gets quieter. “You’ve had more chances to prove it, but I swear.”

There’s another silent pause before Jack goes to bite the cuticle of his thumb.

“Is it because I’m back in the lineup? Are you..worried that now that I’m back, people are going to treat you like you’re nothing but my understudy? I’ll have your back through that, I promise.” 

Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Their iMessage thread is embarrassing: endless texts from Connor asking if he’s okay, if he’ll come home, what’s going on, just simple “i”s and “What’s up?”s. Jack scrolls past all of that though to where the screenshot was sent. Connor and his endless obliviousness missed it, of course he did, because Jack made sure to bury it with replies. Connor never scrolls up. 

He holds his phone out to Connor, who takes it from his hand gently. There’s a long pause as Connor reads it. 

“I don’t…” Connor hands his phone back. “That was the problem? You saw my messages with Mitch, and now you can’t even look at me?”

Jack looks up at Christen, ignoring Connor. “He’s sexting other people, he was the whole time. I was….” he stops himself. “While I was telling you he had my back, he was sexting someone else.”

“No! What? That’s not fair!” Connor sounds genuinely upset, like he’s on the verge of tears. “We don’t do that, Jack! That’s not our relationship. It’s not anything, it’s just Mitch and me. It’s just what we do.”

“You  _ said, _ ” Jack presses, “you said you’re not attracted to me.”

“I… I did.” Connor agrees.

“That’s it?” Jack asks, “That’s all you got?” he shakes his head. “This is why I don’t want to talk about it.” He goes back to talking to Christen. “Do I have to explain to him the correct way to treat your soulmate? It’s humiliating, I don’t want to look at him.”

“Jack…” 

“Connor,” Christen cuts in, “How do you see your relationship with Jack?”

“Right now?”

“Right now, yes, but also in the future, where do you see it going?”

“Oh,” Connor says. “Well, I mean, we’re soulmates, I think it’s obvious where it’s going to end up, he’s the only person in the world for me. But it has to build to that, right? That’s what you keep saying, you keep telling me it’s going to get there but we have to build and work on it. That’s what our relationship is right now, we’re building and we’re working on it. He’s important to me.” 

“Jack.” 

“What?”

“Same question.”

“She’s not asking whether or not we’re soulmates,” Jack says to Connor instead of answering. “She’s asking if you see me romantically or if we’re just friends to you. Because the issue here is not that you are trying to betray me, the issue is that you did and you don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s a communication issue. And that’s why I can’t talk to you, because how am I supposed to tell you that I was hurt by what you did when you don’t see me?”

Connor is silent.

“Jack, can you still answer the question?”

“No.” Jack doesn’t even say anything after that. 

Christen doesn’t push him.

 

*******

 

Jack had been so consumed with his own stuff and Connor’s stuff he hadn’t really been paying attention to John Scott’s stuff. But once he lands in Nashville, it becomes clear that no matter what drama was going on in Edmonton, no one really cares about anything besides the whole John Scott movement. John Scott being voted in, and then the teams trying to bury him, and then, finally, the NHL putting him on the Pacific Division team anyway.

So that’s where Jack stands. He’s the only Edmonton Oiler on the team, but he’s playing with four other Americans and players he knows vaguely. Gaudreau and him weren’t in the NCAA at the same time, but they know each other. Of course they do.

Hanny calls him when he settles into his hotel.

“You gonna get totally smashed?” Hanny asks. “That’s a stupid question-- what else are you going to do at the All-Star Game? Even if you weren’t planning on it, you should do it, for me, ya know?”

“Shut up,” Jack says “But yeah, totally, I deserve it. This is a vacation, as far as I’m concerned.”

“No man, I’m on vacation, you’re still working. They’re going to want to talk to you about Connor and stuff and that’s going to be awkward because…”

“Yeah, shut up,” Jack says. “I know how to talk about him while being emotionally distant. That’s something I’ve been practicing for months now, before I even really met him. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.”

“What did he do, anyway?” Hanny asks.

“Seriously, Hanny?”

“You love complaining.”

“Fine.” Jack sits down on his hotel bed to prepare himself, “While we were like, doing our cuddle thing, and he was healing, and I was, like… you know… feeling bad for him and doing whatever I could to help him, he was sexting Mitch Marner the whole time and didn’t think it was a problem. I was really just… a buddy to him, the whole time.”

There’s a long pause.

“What?” Jack asks, feeling suddenly suspicious.

“You have feelings for him.”

“He’s my soulmate. Of course I do!”

“Well,” Hanny says, “you didn’t always. That’s a dick thing for him to do, but Jack, you were pretty adamant that you hated him before. And we already know he’s this shallow, oblivious dude.”

“What are you saying?”

“Just maybe… stop being mad at him for who he is. Stop expecting him to change who he is. Start learning to work with him. If he’s oblivious and shallow, you can’t just keep stuff from him. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel and what you want.”

“I can’t believe you’re on his side,” Jack says.

“I’m not on his side, man,” Hanny says back. “You’re miserable. You shouldn’t be miserable. And this is just who Connor is, and he’s not going anywhere. Someone needs to sit him down and tell him to be a better communicator too, but he’s not my responsibility. You’re my responsibility. So I’m helping you.”

“It’s… Hanny, it’s humiliating. Sure, yeah, whatever, I had feelings for him. But no amount of communicating would have changed the fact that he didn’t have feelings for me at all. How am I supposed to communicate with him about stuff I think is obvious?”

“Well, that’s why you two are in therapy, probably.”

“Probably.”

 

*****

 

All-Star Weekend is a lot of fun, and it does help Jack take his mind off of all the stuff going on back home. They ask him about Connor a little bit, about Connor coming back after what was potentially a season ending injury. And it sucks, more than he thought it would, for the constant reminder. But he answers as truthfully as he can anyway.

“I always knew he was going to come back this season,” Jack says into the mic. “He’s unbelievable, really, I’ve never seen someone who worked as hard as him, besides me, of course.” The media members laugh, and Jack takes the win; it’s better than being told he’s a brat, at least. 

“He’s not just the best player in the world,” Jack continues. “If it was just talent, I don’t think he would have gotten this far. But he loves hockey and he loves Edmonton. So I’m not surprised he’s going to be back so soon. I always knew he could do it.”

“Is it weird for you to still be in his shadow even though you’ve been carrying this team most of the year?” a lady off to the side asks.

Jack thinks about that one for a beat or two. 

“It is weird for me. I never expected this is how my life would go, you know? I mean, what were the odds that he’d end up being my soulmate? But it’s not my job to worry about whether or not I’m in his shadow. It’s my job to play hockey. And Connor is my teammate, not just in hockey but, like, in everything. So it’s weird, but I’m not mad about it.” Jack bites his lip. “I was mad about it, at first. I think everyone could see that. But I’m not anymore. He’s important to me and hockey is important to me. And life is about making sacrifices. I don’t mind playing second fiddle to him as long as I’m doing my best to help my team go as far as possible.”

Once the words are out of his mouth they’re no longer in his control. He can’t even really remember what most of them were or what they meant, he just knows that it was what was on his mind. He supposes he’ll know if it was a good enough response or not when the media starts talking about it on Twitter. But he tries not to let that bother him either.

Because, at the end of the day, when he really sits down and thinks about it, he’s not mad at Connor for being better than him. He’s not mad that he ended up in Edmonton, or that he’s playing on the second line. He doesn’t even know if he’s mad at all, anymore. 

Realizing all of that should be good, but it just makes things worse. Because if Jack isn’t angry, he’s hurt. He’s sitting in his hotel room in Nashville, the sounds of some party outside his hotel room blaring, staring at the TV while some infomercial plays. 

He doesn’t even know what they’re trying to sell him.

 

******

 

When he lands back in Edmonton, part of him feels like he’s going to be in trouble, like he’s sneaking back in after a night out with the boys, only to find his parents waiting for him in the kitchen. But that’s not what’s happening.

No one is at the airport to pick him up, and when he gets into his car he sits, staring at the wheel deciding on where he should be going back to. He wants to go to Nuge’s, doesn’t even want to really consider going back home, but… but, if what he said was true– if he isn’t mad anymore– maybe home is where he should go. 

And Hanny was right, Jack can’t be mad at Connor for being himself. Jack can’t be mad at Connor for not knowing he had feelings. It’s unfair and it sucks, but they’re soulmates, and if Jack has to babysit Connor for the rest of their lives, then that’s what’s going to happen. He doesn’t want to have to shift and mold and give up parts of himself, but he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. 

At the end of the day, all he can do is control himself. Whatever Connor decides is up to him.

So Jack goes home.

 

******

 

When Jack opens the door he can sense the fullness of it, different from Nuge’s place, which is calm and has a lot of empty spaces. Taylor is usually responsible for filling most of the spaces, he likes being around people and sounds and warmth. But it’s more than just Taylor; Jack can hear Luke and Connor’s voices coming from the kitchen. It makes him feel scared and vulnerable, and he wants to go hide in his room, but he also doesn’t want to sneak in.

He lets the door close heavy behind him and cringes when the noise settles down.

He takes one step in, like he’s not hyper focusing on the environment around him, and pretends to not be surprised when he hears a soft, “Hey.”

It’s Taylor, like it usually is.

“Hey,” Jack says back. 

“You here to stay?” 

“Yeah,” Jack nods. “I gotta go unpack.”

“Okay,” Taylor says, “Yeah, you go do that, do you need help?”

“No, I’m okay.” Jack can feel his words catch, He doesn’t know why he feels emotional all of the sudden, but he has to lift his hand up to rub at his face and hide it.

“Okay,” Taylor repeats. “Do you want dinner? I told Luke and Connor to go fuck themselves, but I can make you something.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m going to,” Taylor says, talking over Jack. “If you don’t eat it, one of them will.”

Jack doesn’t fight it; he did his part in politely declining, but Taylor sees right through that, and Jack… he wants someone to take care of him. Maybe he doesn’t deserve it if his soulmate doesn’t even want to do it, but he can’t stop himself from accepting it when Taylor offers it up so easily. Maybe he’ll have it now, once, before he doesn’t get it ever again.

He spends longer than he needs to unpacking; he was only gone for a little bit and he has more clothes still left at Ryan’s that he can go pick up later this week. It’ll all be fine. But Jack feels tired, worn out, beaten down from the inside. He has to take pauses and put his face in his hands to breathe through a lot of the feelings churning around in his stomach. Eventually, though, he gets all of his clothes put away, and he’s still struggling not to break down, but it’s something.

Jack ends up crawling over to the bed and sitting on the ground with his back against it, putting space between him and the door and staring out the window. Edmonton in January, almost February, isn’t a great view, but he doesn’t think Buffalo would look great this time of year either. 

Edmonton isn’t bad. The Oilers are amazing. Jack loves it here. He’s with his soulmate. So, why does he feel like Nashville stripped him clean and left him bare, sending him back to Edmonton with nothing to protect him from the cold? 

There’s a knock on the door when he starts to phase out. He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even really move because he doesn’t want to let any of his roommates in. But he can’t keep them out, either.

“Jack?” It’s Connor this time, and Jack feels a tear cling to his eyelash. 

It feels out of body, again; he can feel the way his body reacts, the way his chest starts to stutter and the tears roll down his cheek, but he doesn’t feel anything but stoney and still. He doesn’t feel that pain anymore, doesn’t feel or really hear anything but Connor as he walks around the bed.

“Jack?” Connor repeats.

Jack doesn’t look away from the window.

Connor sits slowly next to him, pressed close so their shoulders are touching. Jack doesn’t know how to respond or where to look, he doesn’t want to, but if he did, he doesn’t know how he’d go about it. 

He’s pretty sure Connor doesn’t say anything after that, at least for a few minutes, until his hand comes down and touches Jack’s knee where it’s pulled up to his chest.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says, quiet.

“Okay,” Jack mutters. “I’ll be out.”

Connor squeezes his knee and leans closer into him. “Can we talk?”

“I can’t,” Jack says. “Not right now, I can’t…” he closes his eyes against the force of coming back into his own body. He feels the breath knocked out of him when everything sort of closes in on him. 

He’s so tired and weak and he’s so  _ sad _ . He doesn't want to have to give up who he is just to be happy with his soulmate. He doesn’t want to have to change and morph and keep so much of himself inside just because he doesn’t want to fight with Connor anymore. He knows fate never makes mistakes, but what if fate just… wanted him miserable? What if Connor is punishment for something? Jack just wants someone to be there for him.

Connor senses the change and puts his arm around Jack’s shoulders, tugging him in close just as Jack starts to really sob and feel it wrack through him violently. Connor just stays there, holding him close and sturdy and safe. 

It’s not enough.

So Jack just stays there and he cries into Connor’s neck and tries to expel all the negative feelings. He’s not sure how many more times he’s going to have where he can do this, so he uses it and he tries to let it all out. 

If he has to get used to Connor being oblivious, Connor has to get used to Jack’s feelings, because if he's going to have to suppress himself this much all the time, then these breakdowns are going to happen more often. The least Connor can do is hug him through it.

 

******

 

Connor leaves him alone for a few days, which Jack appreciates. It takes him a bit to put himself back together and rebuild that sarcastic and charming shell he’s spent years cultivating and growing into. He gets a little possessive, though, in a way that Jack had never experienced from anyone before, standing sort of between him and anyone else that comes up to talk to him. The only person he seems to really let by without carefully screening first is Leon. And the weirdest part is that Jack actually really appreciates all of it. One time Connor completely turned  Ebs away because he could sense a little frustration lingering from practice, and another time he kept a closer eye on Nail just because of how much energy he seemed to have. 

On their way to the rink for Connor’s first game back, Jack can feel the tension in the car, and for once, none of it is focused on him. Connor is carrying it in his body in a way he just usually doesn’t– he’s so calm and confident most of the time. But his hand is gripping the steering wheel too tight, and he keeps checking the rearview mirror, even when nothing’s changed.

Jack doesn’t know what to do at first; he just watches Connor rub anxiously at his chin out of the corner of his eye. But eventually, when they’re waiting in traffic, he leans over a little, because he has to say something.

“You’re going to do great,” he says, not sure how that’s supposed to help.

“Who knows?” Connor says back. “I’ve been out for so long.”

“You’ve worked hard to make it back. You belong here, you know?”

He sees Connor visibly relax at that. “So you weren’t just saying all that stuff, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“The interview you gave at the All-Star Game,” Connor says as he presses on the gas, the light changing green a few cars ahead of them. “You said all that stuff about how I was a hard worker and the best player in the world.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack says.

“You also said I was important to you.” Connor says it cautiously, like he knows he’s pushing it a little. “That we were teammates through everything.”

“I did,” Jack agrees, even though he’s not sure where Connor is going with this.

“I’m just saying– I appreciate that, you know? I have put you through a lot but you can still get up and say those things about me. It meant a lot, to hear those things from you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Jack mutters.

“For what?”

“Not saying that sooner, being scared to say that to your face. Maybe if you’d known, none of this would have even happened.” Jack looks down at his lap, “So, I’m sorry. For making things so difficult.”

When he looks up, Connor is making a pained face, his hands tensing up on the steering wheel again. Which– that’s just great, Jack was supposed to be calming him down, and here he is, making things worse.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Connor finally says, voice soft. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to spell everything out for me if I wasn’t a complete idiot most of the time. I need to be more thoughtful.”

“It’s okay,” Jack says. “That’s who you are and I… I need to learn to deal with it.”

Connor doesn't say anything to that, but his face doesn’t lose that pained expression. When they pull into the players parking lot and get out of the car, though, Connor meets him around the back of the car and hugs him, close and tight. 

When he pulls back, he looks right at Jack. “You shouldn’t have to learn to deal with your soulmate. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“Okay,” is all Jack says. He doesn’t need to get his hopes up.

“I’m serious.”

“ _ Okay, _ ” Jack repeats.

Connor makes an annoyed huffing noise and steps forward, kissing Jack square on the mouth. It’s not particularly passionate or sexy, but it feels like maybe it’s not to prove a point, something just for him. And that’s nice on its own.

 

*****

 

The game that night feels like it’s out of a movie. Jack gets an assist on a goal by Leon at the end of the second, but he’s a write-off in comparison to Connor, who scores once and gets two assists, the last one in the third off of a goal from Eberle. Jack’s on the bench when Connor scores, and he feels a sharp pang of jealousy at the way Eberle passes to him and sets him off. But all of that is okay, because Connor cellies in a way that Jack has never seen from him before.

He doesn’t get to say anything to him on the bench but Connor grins at him, shares a wink. And Jack still wishes he was on the ice with him, but that makes him feel better, even just a little bit.

After the game, the guys pat Connor on the back and say things like, “Welcome back Davo!” and “What a homecoming!” and Jack feels proud of him, deep in his chest. He doesn’t join in on it, but he stands back, near his locker, and watches patiently. 

It takes Connor longer than usual to get dressed and ready to go, but Jack isn’t concerned. He just waits around and says bye to each guy as they leave. Tomorrow is a travel day so he’ll be seeing them again soon. It feels odd though, still a little vulnerable in front of them. He doesn’t know why, but he almost flinches when Pat Maroon sticks his fist out for a fist bump. 

When Connor’s ready to go, he approaches Jack where he’s standing near the door and puts a hand on his shoulder to guide him out of the locker room. They don’t talk, and Connor drops his hand so they walk to the car almost pressed together. It’s quiet and a lot more calm on the ride home; Jack slumps against the window and drifts a little, listening to the sound of the radio and the rumbling of the car. The cut of the engine is what wakes him up and he makes his way up to the apartment with Connor just behind him.

It’s quiet in the apartment too, Luke and Taylor already stowed away for the night, probably. 

“You want something to eat?” Connor asks.

“No, I’m fine,” Jack says. “Maybe something to drink, though?” 

“Sure,” Connor nods. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

Jack nods and heads toward the bedroom. He strips out of his suit easily, not wanting to be stuck in it for much longer. Connor steps in when Jack is down to his boxers. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but Connor kind of hesitates in the doorway, staring at him.

“What?” Jack asks, anxious.

“Nothing,” Connor says slowly. “I got you a Gatorade.” He walks the rest of the way into the room and puts the bottle down on the bedside table.

“Thanks,” Jack says.

Connor nods and looks back up at him, and Jack feels really exposed in that moment.

“What?” he asks again. “You keep staring at me.”

“Well!” Connor says, a little huffy. “You’re not wearing any clothes.”

“Yeah, and this isn’t the first time.”

“Whatever,” Connor says. “I’ll close my eyes until you finish dressing will that make you feel better.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Just don’t be weird about it, man.”

“What, so before, I wasn’t looking enough and now, I’m looking too much?”

“Just looking doesn’t mean anything. It’s weird because I know you don’t like what you see.”

Connor’s face loses all trace of amusement at that and he frowns. “I never said that.”

“I’m not your type, remember?”

“I mean, no offense, but guys are my type.”

“That’s why you were talking about getting Marner on your dick before you even kissed me.” Jack doesn’t mean for it to sound so accusatory, or, well, maybe he does. But he really hadn’t planned on confronting Connor about this.

“Well, Marns is, like, a good friend of mine but, I mean, kissing you is more important than sexting him, I didn’t need to take my time with that.” Connor handles it a lot more smoothly than Jack anticipated, not missing a beat.

“Okay, sure,” Jack says, still suspicious.

“You’re big, and I’m not… used to that,” Connor says. “But I wouldn’t say I don’t like what I see, not even close. I just… have never looked at someone like you before.”

“It’s been months.” 

“I know, but, I’ve been stupid for most of it.” Connor looks around uncomfortably. “I’m just saying, maybe you don’t have to just learn to deal with me. Maybe we can like, actually do this thing right.” 

Jack just stares at him.

“I don’t want to see you cry ever again, and I’d really like to play on the same line with you.”

Jack nods.

 

******

 

The next time they have therapy, Christen makes them sit facing each other in two folding chairs. It’s uncomfortable and annoying and Jack can tell this is supposed to be one of those super emotionally charged appointments. He’s not excited for it. 

“Okay, so,” she says, “I’m a mediator, don’t be concerned about rules or what you’re supposed to do. I just want you guys to talk.”

“Well, uh,” Connor says first.

“You can hold hands if that makes you feel better.”

Jack is about to say that it won’t when Connor reaches forward and grabs his hands. Jack raises his eyebrow, but Connor seems really determined, and Jack huffs a little and tries not to smile. 

“I just want to say,” Connor starts, “that I’m sorry, seriously, about the Mitch thing. I should have been more thoughtful and considerate. I should have realized that your feelings might have been hurt, that you’re so different from me and I can’t just expect you to be just like me. So I’m sorry that I cheated on you, because that’s what I was doing. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was. And I’m sorry I let you find out the way you did. I should have been making more of an effort with you instead of hiding all of that in Mitch.”

“I… uh… forgive you?” Jack says.

Connor sighs and casts his eyes down. Jack is pretty sure even Christen makes a disappointed noise, even if she’s trying to cover it up. 

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Connor offers.

“If I didn’t say anything, how would you have known? I should have understood you were different too. You don’t hide things the way I do, you’re always showing your cards. I should have communicated to you how I felt, I just…”

“What?”

“It hurt, it fucking hurt. Okay? I know this is supposed to be like, me accepting your apology, but, like, I just–” Jack dropped his head and shook it. “Noah tried to tell me I just needed to accept you for who you are, and I’m trying, but sometimes you’re just… like a fucking psychopath.” Jack looks back up. “You drive me fucking crazy, I don’t… how am I supposed to go around just accepting who you are, if who you are is self-centered and emotionally shallow? What person in their right mind, whether they like them or not, thinks about sleeping around with someone else when they’re so obviously with their soulmate? How do you go so far out of the way to avoid considering other people’s feelings, how do you do that?”

Connor’s eyes are wide.

“And great, you apologized for cheating on me, that’s a real big step,” Jack doesn’t mean to sound so sarcastic but now he can’t… he can’t stop. “Because the original problem was and always will be the fact that all I ever wanted since I was a kid was to be drafted. Not just onto an NHL team, I wanted all of it. I wanted the interviews, I wanted the rankings and the scouting. I wanted a team to say my name and to see it up on the board. I wanted to be congratulated by Bettman and fumble with putting a jersey on, onstage. I wanted to stand up there and get my picture taken. I wanted to be hurried backstage and congratulated and go through all the media stuff as Jack Eichel, as my own person.”

“I didn’t...” 

“I got none of that,” Jack pushed on, ignoring him. “I didn’t get to do any of that. I was snuck into the media room and from that point on I wasn’t ‘Jack Eichel’ anymore; I was ‘Connor McDavid’s Soulmate’ first and foremost. And maybe it’s not your fault that people treated me that way. That I was treated like I had to be your fucking babysitter all day. Maybe it’s not your fault that people made me believe I couldn’t share my feelings with you or anyone else. Maybe it’s not your fault that every time I did, someone gave me a look because I had to be good for you, to not make you look bad.

“But you didn’t do anything about any of that either, you were offended that I wasn’t falling over trying to thank you for what you did. You really never could understand why I’d want to go second as my own person instead of first as your sidekick. You never  _ got  _ it. You never thought it through. So yeah, you cheated on me, and that was the last straw. But this is more important and I don’t know if you get it.”

Connor is absolutely silent.

“You said you never got the chance to have my back but you did, since day one, you could have had my back. When you got injured, my heart broke for you, I was so mad, I wanted to kill that Manning kid– I still do– I couldn’t fathom doing anything else but making sure anyone who hurt you paid for it. And I guess now, after everything with Marner, I just realize that you didn’t feel those things for me. That you saw how hurt I was and you didn’t do anything. You just taunted me for it.”

“I’m sorry.” Connor’s voice is small.

“How am I supposed to talk to you when you’re not even on my wavelength? I see you as my soulmate and you see me as a nuisance,  _ maybe  _ a friend, sometimes. How was I supposed to tell you I liked you when you didn’t do anything besides not yell at me? And that’s the thing here, right? I’m so lucky you’re my soulmate, but poor you, having to deal with Diva Jack Eichel.”

“I never said that…”

“You didn’t?”

“Well if I did, I don’t believe that, not anymore.” Jack shakes his head. “Jack, I’m serious. But it’s not fair to me either, okay? I should have had your back and I can see that now. But you always made it out like it was my fault. Like I was the reason we became soulmates, and I was the one who made the rule saying you weren’t going to get drafted. I should have had your back, but you kept blaming me for something I had no power over. I taunted you, but you taunted me too.”

“Well, it wasn’t fair!”

“No, it wasn’t.”

There’s a long pause.

“You could apologize too, you know,” Connor says, defiant.

“For what?” Jack asks.

“For taking your anger out on me when It wasn’t my fault.”

“Did you miss my whole rant? It was your fault! You never had my back.”

“I know, I apologized for that!’ Now both of their voices are rising. “But you treated me like shit too, you didn’t like me, either, and it wasn’t my fault!”

“It was your fault, you let it happen to me.”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“Says who?”

“You want me to change the way the whole world views you? Change the way the whole world views us? I can’t do that.”

“You’re not getting it.” Jack can feel the way he squeezes Connor’s hands maybe too hard. “I never gave a shit what the media thought, not really. When I hit that guy and got my first suspension, I never  _ really  _ cared what the media had to say. I didn’t hide from the media, I hid from  _ you _ . I never needed the world to view us differently, I needed  _ you _ to.”

“Okay, well,” Connor straightens up, “that’s what I’m doing now.”

“So I don’t have to apologize.”

“I’d really like it if you could fucking apologize.” 

“Why? I don’t need to.”

“You blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault…”

“It  _ was _ your fault.”

“No, it wasn’t! I never wanted to take those things from you, I never was going to take those things from you. That’s not  _ fair _ .”

“But you could have…”

“I know what I could have done! But you didn’t have to treat me like it was my fault, too, just because you didn’t have the media to yell at, or the league to yell at, or the soulmate gods, or whoever. You yelled at me because I was an easy target. You took all your shit out on me because you  _ could _ . Maybe I deserved some of it, okay, and I apologize for the shit I did deserve, but I didn’t deserve all of it. You weren’t the only victim here.”

“Yeah, it must have been so difficult to get everything and…”

“ _ Jack _ , Jesus fucking Christ! I’m trying here!” 

“Well, nice of you to finally start.”

Connor lets go of his hands then and leans back in the chair, running his hand through his hair. He’s red in the face and his whole body is tense and Jack just– Jack wants to fight him, get all this restless energy out and piss him off. He wants all of this pain and hurt out of him and into Connor. He can’t handle it anymore.

“Maybe it’s time you see how it feels for what you feel you deserve to be completely ignored,” Jack spits at him. 

Connor just gives him a hurt look at that.

 

******

 

Hurt and anger flip over in him like some fucked up feelings pancake after that. It sucks. It really sucks. It’s worse because he can see Connor’s patience wear thin with it too. Because he  _ is _ trying, Connor is trying to be good with him, but it’s just...not working. Jack goes back and forth between letting him get close, letting him sprinkle Jack in gentle words, and bitching out at him for even daring to be in the same room. It’s not fair, and Jack knows it, but he doesn’t know how to reconcile these feelings. He doesn’t know what to do.

The team starts doing better with Connor back; they’re still holding onto their last playoff spot but it’s getting a little hairy. He still finds he’s jealous not being on Connor’s line, still doesn’t like it when Ebs gets an assist on his goals. He wants to be on that line so badly, but he doesn’t know how well that would work out, not with his emotions doing their gymnastics routine. He really can’t afford another suspension, not this late in the season and not when they just got Connor back.

After practice one day, Leon grabs him and says, “We’re going out for lunch,” and Jack doesn’t deny him, can’t, really.

“Do I need to kick his ass?” Leon asks.

Jack looks up from his food across the table, towards Leon. “Uh, who?”

“Connor’s,” Leon says. “I mean, I’ve gotten close to him now too, but like, you haven’t been this fucked up since the beginning of the season, so I was just wondering if I had to do anything about that.”

Jack feels his mouth curve up into a small smile. “No it’s just… therapy has been kicking my ass recently, and she made us do this thing where we sat down and faced each other and just like… talked at each other. And I… I don’t know. It just really feels like fate fucked this one up.”

“Yeah,” Leon sighs “Life would just be easier if everyone got to pick their soulmate. I mean, I’m sure it’s easier to know that the person you have will be there forever, but don’t you ever think about what it’d be like to just, be able to say ‘You’re a dick, bye,’ and get with someone else who isn’t an asshole? Like. You just will never get to experience that kind of thing. Which is why I always kind of think it’s bullshit when people pity me when they hear I don’t have a soulmate. Because yeah, I don’t have a sure thing, but I don’t have to make myself settle either.”

“But that’s so much unknown,” Jack says. “You have no idea where you’re going to be in 50 years. Like, I don’t either, but I know Connor will be there with me. I know he’ll be by my side through everything.”

“Will he though?” Leon asks. “Because it sounds like he doesn’t even have your back right now.”

“Well, that’s what the therapy is for.”

“Sounds like a lot of hard work.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love takes work.”

“Fair,” Leon says. “But how much work is too much?”

“There’s no such thing when it comes to your soulmate, you work until  _ it works _ . That’s how you know it’s enough. Your soulmate is it, that’s the price you pay for that.”

“I’m not trying to offend,” Leon says, “I’m just saying. Soulmates are just as big of dicks as everyone else. I just feel lucky that I don’t have to put up with that, but if they’re your soulmate you have to. I mean. I like the choice. I like the choice I have to not end up with anyone too. You don’t get that.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, “but I get Connor and no one else does.”

“Well…”

“Don’t, Leon.”

“I’m just saying, soulmates cheat too.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Leon says, “Just, there’s this romanticization of soulmates, like they’re perfect, like you meet them and things are all perfect and great and so everyone who doesn’t have a soulmate is miserable and a lost cause. But soulmates aren’t really any more special than us. They’re just normal people. All you know is that somewhere along the line they’re your person. And that’s a lot of work for someone you maybe aren’t supposed to meet up with until you’re 50 or 60. That’s a lot of time you could spend being happy, but instead you’re miserable. Not because of Connor, but because of the whole soulmate system.”

“So, you’re saying the soulmate system is, what, corrupt?”

“Not corrupt, just fucked up. I don’t think people should be playing with fate like this. Knowing it doesn’t change it, you know? We should just leave it all alone. You know they’re working on other ways to harness it, right? With jobs and children and to test to see who’s going to turn into murderers. I don’t know how much I support it.”

“Well, it’s different,” Jack says. “Having a soulmate is great, I like that I know.”

“Okay,” Leon nods. “We’re coming at this from different sides, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

 

*******

 

Connor and Jack have their own rooms on the road, a suggestion from Christen to give each of them some alone time. That doesn’t mean the rooms aren’t usually right next to each other or connected by a door between their walls, though. Which is fine, because both sides need to be open, which means Jack can decide if he wants Connor to have access to him and vice versa.

They’re in LA when Jack makes the decision to open his side of the door. He doesn’t know why he does it, but… he does, and that’s all that matters. He stares at the other door, still closed, for a few beats, before he leaves it. He doesn’t know if Connor opens his door ever, because Jack never has either. But there’s no point in closing it now.

The next morning Jack wakes to find that his door is still open and Connor’s is closed. He huffs and rolls out of bed, approaching the door and knocking. Connor needs to be up now anyway.

It doesn’t take too long for Connor to open the door, toothbrush in his mouth.

“What?” he asks, garbled.

“You had your door closed all night.”

“So did you.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Connor raises his eyebrows. “One second,” he adds, and walks back towards the bathroom of his hotel room. Jack rolls his eyes but follows him into the bathroom, watching as he spits into the sink.

“You should.”

“What?”

“Keep your door open tonight,” Jack says. They’re staying here again, playing Anaheim tomorrow too. 

“Okay,” Connor says slowly, a little suspicious.

“You owe me,” Jack says.

Connor rolls his eyes as he starts brushing his teeth again, pointedly ignoring Jack even as he stands there and watches.

“I should go get ready too,” Jack says.

“Yeah,” Connor responds, a little too aggressively.

 

*****

 

They lose the game that night, but only by one goal. It still stings as they slip out of their playoff spot, but it’s not a lost cause yet, Jack hasn’t given up hope. Back at the hotel, though, Jack slowly undresses and washes his face, taking his time to decompress before he goes to the door between their room and opens it.

Connor’s is still closed.

Jack frowns, and pauses. He doesn’t want to knock, because Connor should know, but also… they’re supposed to be trying. And Connor is different and Jack should…

He knocks.

The door opens almost immediately, Connor still in his suit.

“I was getting to you,” Connor says, annoyed. “I had to call my mom.”

“Sorry,” Jack says. “I wasn’t trying to… like, be obnoxious. I just didn’t want to mope behind the door and then be angry at you about it tomorrow because I didn’t remind you if you had just forgotten.”

“Oh,” Connor says, his face relaxing. “Well, I appreciate that.”

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds.

“So, what’d you want to do?” Connor asks.

“Um…” Jack shrugs. “Just like, being with you? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Connor looks over Jack’s shoulder and then back behind his. “Which room?” he asks.

“Mine,” Jack says. “I want to have the option to kick you out if I have to.”

Connor smiles a little. “I’ll be extra nice to you, then, just let me get undressed and stuff and I’ll be in there soon.”

Jack nods and steps back. He can be more patient now. He turns his TV on and climbs into his bed, setting the remote on his stomach. His eyes keep traveling to the open door next to his TV, watching Connor rummage around in his room. It feels nice knowing that Connor is preparing to come spend time with him, not because they share a room or because they work together or for any other reason than Jack asked and he said yes.

Connor finally comes into the room in his boxers and a white t shirt, not much different than what Jack is wearing. He gets on the bed next to Jack without any fuss, doesn’t even complain about the fact that Jack has “The Town” on. Even with the amount of time they’ve avoided each other this season Jack has probably made Connor watch this movie upwards of 10 times. 

But it’s his favorite movie, and it’s Boston, this is basically his heritage.

“It’s not your fucking heritage” Connor says when Jack explains this, “You’re not even from  _ Boston _ .”

“Whatever,” Jack huffs, “Just because you’re from a culturally void city like Toronto, doesn’t mean we all are.”

“Yeah I’m sure the culture in Chelmsford is great,”

“ _ North _ Chelmsford,”

“Ah yes, sorry I forgot the cultural mecca that is  _ North _ Chelmsford, that’s my mistake.”

“Yeah, well, at least I was never a Leafs fan.”

“Whatever, being a Bruins fan is worse.”

“Do I need to remind you about 2013?”

“No, you do not.” Connor pokes him in the stomach. “You need to drop that- we’re not even on those teams anymore.”

“Then why do you care?” Jack pokes him back.

“The Bruins suck.” Connor throws his arm around Jack’s shoulder and tugs him into his chest. “The Bruins suck and you really should not be so proud to have been a fan of them, they’re in no way better than the Leafs.”

“I got to see them win the Stanley Cup, when have you ever seen the Leafs win a Cup?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, tell me, I’d love to hear this. Kessel really seemed to work out.”

“Shut  _ up _ .”

“I mean, you did lose to the Bruins in 2013, and they went on to be Eastern Conference Champs, so I guess it was kind of like you guys made it to the ECF too.”

“Ugh, oh my god,” Connor groans and shoved him away, “You’re so annoying. Go back to hating me, that was better.”

“No it wasn’t.” Jack grins.

Connor smiles at him. “No, I guess it wasn’t.”

Jack can only smile back, about to turn back to the TV when Connor’s hand comes up and curls around his jaw. Jack can’t help the instinctive flinch away, pulling back. But Connor hushes him and swipes his thumb along the side of Jack’s mouth before he leans in and kisses him, for real this time.

Jack kisses him back; he has to. This kiss isn’t anywhere near as chaste as the other ones had been and.... Jack just groans when Connor pulls him in tighter, slips his tongue into Jack’s mouth. It feels frenzied all of the sudden, in a way that it never felt before, with anyone. Jack feels shocks of lightning under his skin as Connor tries to press closer and closer, slipping a knee in between Jack’s legs and rubbing his hand along Jack’s chest. 

“Off, off,” Connor chants, tugging at Jack’s shirt. “Come on, fuck.”

Jack pushes him off just long enough to tear his shirt off. Connor does the same, both of them scrambling to get pressed back together, this time Connor on top of him. They both groan again when they grind together. Jack is just so relieved that Connor is as hard as he is.

“God,” Connor mumbles before kissing Jack again, just as hard and consuming as before. It’s… it’s so much. It’s a lot and Jack feels like he’s going to fucking explode, especially with the way that Connor’s body is moving on top of his. He can feel all the strength and control that comes along with being an NHL player in the way his hips move.

“We should get out of these, too,” Connor says, pulling back just enough to tug at Jack’s boxers. “We don’t want to make a mess.”

He seems wild and a little too insistent. Jack would bet a lot of money Connor doesn’t really care about any mess but he also doesn’t want to call him on it. Jack shimmies out of his boxers when Connor starts to do the same. He wants to take the chance to really admire Connor’s body, but he doesn’t get it, because Connor is grinding their dicks together and Jack has to tip his head back and moan. It feels so much fucking better like this.

Connor’s mouth goes to his neck, works the skin there as Connor continues to rub off on him. It’s not the hottest thing Jack has ever done and yet...it  _ is _ the hottest thing he’s ever done, and he wants Connor’s dick in him so bad, wants Connor pressing down at him and stretching him so wide.

“Fuck,” Jack mutters, “please Connor.”

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

Connor looks up at him with big eyes before his face twists up and he cums between them, hot and overwhelmed. Jack holds him as he comes down, whining and moaning into Jack’s neck. 

Connor doesn’t wait too long to stick a hand between them and grab Jack’s dick. It doesn’t take much longer for Jack to cum as well and soon they’re both laying there spent and breathing hard.

“Okay, so,” Connor says after a while, “that could have happened a lot sooner.”

Jack can’t help but just laugh weakly.

 

*******

 

Jack feels guilty after that when they’re in therapy, like somehow they skipped a few steps to get to the fucking, like somehow Christen knows and she’s disappointed. He doesn’t know if it’s written on their faces or what, doesn’t know if she can tell that they haven’t been able to keep their hands to themselves since. That mostly they’re too impatient to do much more than rub off on each other, getting hands involved every so often.

Jack doesn’t mean to be using it to cover up talking about the difficult stuff; he just doesn't know how he’s supposed to  _ stop _ . Sex has never been this good before in his life, and it just keeps getting better.

He knows, though, that they have to talk about stuff.

“I just want…” he stops. “I do need to say sorry,” he turns to Connor, “about how I treated you then, and also these past few weeks. I shouldn’t… I was really angry and I didn’t know how to deal with all of that anger so I took it out on you. I was just– there was so much inside of me and I didn’t know how to get it out, so I hurt you, because you were close and you were an easy target and I knew you weren’t going to go anywhere, you can’t. But that doesn’t make it okay, that makes it worse. So I am sorry, Connor.”

Connor smiles at him, soft and sweet and reaches over to grab Jack’s hand. “Thank you.”

Jack turns to Christen then. “I don’t know what to do, though. I don’t know what to do if I’m angry again in the future. I tried to get it out during hockey, but that just got me in trouble.”

“Can you try talking to Connor about it? Before it makes you angry? Or warn him that it is making you angry? I’m sure he’d love to help you.”

“Yeah,” Connor agrees, “I would, I can help. You know, I got your back and stuff. If you tell me something is wrong or you’re hurt, I can just… have your back.”

Jack looks back to him. “What if that doesn’t work?”

“Well,” Connor says, “at least I’ll have the warning. I don’t think we’re supposed to be perfect right off the bat, but we can do our best and talk to each other more. Because I think the important thing now is that we  _ can _ talk to each other. We know how to and we know what the other might miss. I think that’s the important part. Like, anger is always going to be there, but we know how to deal with it.” He looks up at Christen then. “That’s what you said earlier right? About building the tools now so we can navigate problems in the future? We’re never going to eliminate problems, but we can overcome them together.”

“Exactly,” Christen says.

Connor looks back to Jack then. “You said we’re a team, right? Well then, I guess we’re going to lose a few games, but when we do, we have to just get up and face the next game together.”

Jack nods, “And even if we’re not on the same line in hockey, then at least we’re on the same line here.”

 

******* 

 

 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stupid happy ending they deserve

They miss the playoffs, just barely. It comes down to the last game of the season, they need to win and the Sharks needs to lose and they’re in but… that’s not how it works. They get their job done and the Sharks do too. So that’s it.

It sucks, a lot. The locker clean outs suck and the exit interviews suck but there’s still this undercurrent of excitement. They got so close. Maybe next year, Connor can stay healthy and they can really make a run of it.

Hockey being over means they get to party, too, and one night Jack, Connor, Nuge, Taylor, and Leon all decide to go to a concert. Jack isn’t quite sure who it’s for, and he doesn’t think he really cares either. But it’s fine, because he gets beer and gets to lean into Connor’s chest, smiling and listening to him sing. It’s some country star. Jack doesn’t give a shit about country, but he likes the way Connor is singing to him.

The concert ends around 10, and they’re still tired, but Connor pulls Jack to the side as the other guys go to head towards the parking lot.

“What?” Jack asks.

“I have a surprise for you” Connor says, and then to the rest of the group, “you guys go home, we’ll get an Uber or something.”

“What are you doing?” Jack asks as Connor pulls him to a more secluded area so the crowds can walk around them as they leave.

“I know a guy.” Connor grins. “Besides, throwing around my name isn’t too bad if i’m using it to do stuff for you, right?”

“Connor?”

“It’s a surprise! Okay? Don’t ruin it!”

They stand there for a bit, Connor teasing him with the idea of the surprise for a little bit longer, until the building feels pretty much empty. They get back in by Connor flashing his ID. The arena is eerily empty with just workers cleaning up. Connor leads him down to the locker room, though, a familiar path to both of them.

“Stay here,” Connor says, before he enters the locker room alone. He comes back out a few minutes later with a backpack, and ushers Jack back out and onto the floor of the stadium. The stage is still up but most of the extra lights are down. It’s not totally dark though.

Connor leads Jack to the a spot on the floor and tells him to stay put again before he runs up onto the stage and then around back of it. Jack can’t help but feel a little suspicious about it; he has no idea what Connor could have planned for this, but he’s ready to be pretend to be impressed. If Connor wants to get up on the stage and embarrass himself, well, Jack will just smile along, if it’s what makes him happy.

Connor comes back from behind the structure with a microphone and taps on it a few times. It’s loud, but not as loud as it had been for the show, more intimate, but they probably could still be heard throughout the arena. Connor smiles happily at it, though, and walks back down the stage so he’s standing on the part closest to Jack. He leans down to open the backpack before standing up.

“Welcome!” he says, throwing one of his arms out. “Everyone, to Rexall Place, we’re so glad to have you here.”

“What the fuck?” Jack says.

“Don’t interrupt me,” Connor points to him. “Anyway, welcome, to the 2015 NHL entry draft.”

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“We’d like to thank the NHL for giving us the opportunity to host it in Edmonton, and we’d like to thank our fans for sticking with us as we look to the future. So without further adieu, with the first pick of the draft, the Edmonton Oilers draft, from Boston University, Jack Eichel!” Connor lifts the the microphone away before he leans down and yanks something out of the backpack, something orange.

Jack’s jaw drops when he sees the jersey.

“Come on.” Connor waves impatiently at him, motioning for him to come up on the stage. Jack hesitates but eventually walks around to the little steps on the side of the stage. When he reaches the stage Connor grabs for him and pulls him closer, “Here” he says, “Make sure it’s really awkward, everyone is watching.”

Jack rolls his eyes, but feels light and fluttery in his stomach, nervous despite himself, and a little teary even as he tries to hide it. He pulls the jersey on and lets it fall as he stands there.

Connor grins and hands over a hat to him too, waiting for him to pull it on before he takes his phone out and sidles up to Jack side.

“Smile,” he says, holding his phone up.

Jack doesn’t smile; he leans over and kisses Connor instead, just as the flash goes off. He doesn’t give a fuck about the picture.

“It’s no Bettman congratulating you, but…”

“Shut up,” Jack mutters and pulls Connor close again, kissing him. He wants to say he can’t believe Connor would do this, but he can, he really can believe Connor did this. Something so genuine and pure but still so misses the point but...god, it’s better than the real thing. Jack had let go of this a while ago, at least enough.

It’s not about the draft, not anymore. But it is about Connor and standing there with the stupid jersey on a stage with just him, he can tell that for Connor it’s about him.

When they get home that night Jack doesn’t let anything get in their way, just pulls Connor into the bedroom. He doesn’t know if Connor has it in his mind the way Jack does, but it doesn’t matter. Jack pushes Connor back on the bed and starts taking his clothes off and Connor, as stupid as he can be, manages to catch on and starts stripping as well.

But unlike all the other times, Jack doesn’t push his body against Connor’s, he grabs the lube from the bedside table and crawls on to the bed next to himself.

“What are you doing?” Connor asks as Jack lubes up his fingers.

“Just be patient,” Jack says. He doesn’t take his own advice though, and spreads his legs, pushing his finger in without much preamble.

“Oh fuck,” Connor says, sitting up. “Jack, what…”

“Shut up,” Jack says. “Just, wait.” He grits his teeth through putting a second finger in too quickly. But god, it doesn’t matter; it doesn’t need to feel good, it just needs to be enough to get Connor in him.

He’s so focused on his own fingers he doesn’t notice Connor grabbing the lube as well and putting it on his own fingers. He doesn’t notice until Connor is slipping in one of his fingers as well. Jack lets out a soft cry that’s muffled by Connor who goes to kiss him almost immediately. It’s still a lot, he should have gone slower, but jeez, he wants it like this. Wants to feel Connor, every inch of him.

Connor takes it slower than he does, though, kisses Jack through it, and when Jack pulls his fingers out Connor puts more of his back in. It’s better when it’s Connor anyway, more than the physical sensation, more than the stretching. Because it’s Connor’s fingers and god, they feel so good, so big.

Eventually, though, Connor gets in between his legs, lubes up his own dick, and goes to press against Jack’s hole.

“Come on,” Jack says.

“I just, if this is just a thank you…”

“What? Are we doing this now? Seriously? Fuck, Connor, just fuck me please. I want your dick because it’s your dick. Not because you’re a fucking sap. I promise.”

Connor snickers at that. “Okay, okay fine,” and then he’s pressing in.

Jack’s back arches against his will and he feels his eyes roll a little, accepting Connor into his body like it was supposed to be there. He’s been fucked before, he wasn’t one of those people who saved it for their soulmate. But just like everything else with Connor, this is so much more intense, so much more everything.

All he can really do is hold on while Connor fucks into him, slow and steady thrusts that quickly speed up. Soon, Connor is bent over him, kissing him intermittently when neither of them is moaning.

Feeling how deep he is, the stretch and that deep ache that doesn’t really even ache at all, just feels so hot, and it bubbles up in his abdomen.

“I’m gonna,” Connor groans. “Come on.” He wraps his fist around Jack’s dick and it feels like a shock to his system.

Connor still comes first but Jack isn’t far behind and he just-- he never wants to let go. They turn over after, sweaty and out of breath. They’re gross and Jack will need a shower before bed but he lets Connor curl around him and press kisses to his face and jaw.

“Hey” Connor mutters, stopping the kisses before he reaches Jack lips.

“Hmm?” Jack asks, his eyes trailing Connor’s lips. He’s not super stoked Connor stopped before the finale, but…

“I love you.”

“What?” Jack’s eyes shoot up to look into Connor’s.

Connor’s answer is a sheepish smile, but he still looks relaxed and calm, so Jack doesn’t feel bad that it takes him a few more seconds to say, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you read through that drop me a comment or kudos or talk to me on tumblr because listen, i love talking about the things i've written. I overthink everything i write so it's 100% likely that i have so much more to say about this story! and knowing people enjoy it is like, crazy to me. especially with all the work that went into this story.
> 
> Also I want to address someone who said something about how the way Jack reacts shows that there's a backstory there. and as someone with a panic and anxiety disorder this was interesting to me. because yes, technically, i guess there's a back story. Jack has triggers and reacts to them the way someone with a panic disorder would. But I don't think Jack, in this particular case, has a traumatic back story he just...has a disorder that he's coped with. He's not some brooding dark soul, just a guy, with mental health issues. And I hope that's something I got across. or at least, that's how i feel.


End file.
